


Reader Insert Smut

by generalasshattery



Category: Mortal Kombat - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Blow Jobs, CBT, Clothed Sex, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Bondage, Cock Worship, D/s, Deepthroating, Edging, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Knife Play, Massage, Masturbation, Multi, Oral Sex, Teasing, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Xenophilia, light humiliation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2020-01-07 07:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18405530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generalasshattery/pseuds/generalasshattery
Summary: Requests from my tumblr for reader insert smut pieces! ***Requests are temporarily closed! They’ll be back soon though***





	1. Request list!

I just wanted to include a list of the requests so people can see what things I’m working on and where I’m at on my requests. Italicized ones are complete!

_Kenshi/F!Reader_  
_Ermac/M!Reader_  
_Noob Saibot/F!Reader_  
_Goro/M!Reader_  
_Kenshi/F!Reader - kink/bondage_  
_Kabal/F!Reader - romantic_  
_Bi-Han as Sub Zero/F!Reader - rough_  
_Shinnok/F!Reader_  
_Chaos Smut- Raiden/F!Reader/Kuai Liang_  
_The Kollector/F!Reader_  
_Kuai Liang/F!Reader_  
_Noob Saibot/Smoke_  
_Kollector/M!Reader (Kollector’s first time)_  
_Frost/F!Reader_  
_Kano/F!Reader (knife play)_  
_Havik/F!Reader (cock worship/humiliation)_  
Kuai Liang/F!Reader (reader’s first time)  
Kabal/F!Reader


	2. Kenshi/F!Reader

F!Reader/Kenshi

It made you feel a little naughty, to be honest, even if it was an extremely mild indiscretion. There was a certain thrill about finding small ways to be playful with him. Kenshi managed to wake up early every morning to train, you were not much of an early riser but every now and then you could roll out of bed shortly after him and begin your day. If you were going to be up at that hour; though, you were going to enjoy yourself a little. Which was why you always mysteriously had things to do near him while he was practicing - there was always some random task that “required” you to work with him in your line of sight.

Today you had your windex and paper towels in hand, working on getting the already perfectly cleaned windows absolutely spotless. Well, not really, you weren’t working that hard. In fact you were spraying kind of randomly and enjoying the show your favorite man was unknowingly putting on for you.. He was like poetry in the way he moved, deliberate and graceful, every motion seemed to have some inherent meaning that you didn’t understand. So yes, just like poetry. His body, however was like a statue, sculpted to perfection by his own hard work. He was strong, immovable, exceptional- and attractive.

You’d been rubbing the same spot on the window for a few minutes watching him with that mischievous grin, thinking of the many things you enjoyed about him. Or more accurately the evening you’d had before. He’d never been above using his abilities “against you”. In the absence of sight he delighted instead in experiencing you in every other way. He loved to touch and taste you, to tease you and draw deep moans or desperate whimpers from your lips. 

“You’re distracting me,” he said, interrupting your thoughts. His voice was low in a playfully warning tone, daring you to keep it up. He didn’t react much otherwise, he continued his pushups – you’d lost count on what number he was on. You couldn’t see his face, but you didn’t need to. He was smirking, and you knew it because he was always so pleased with himself when he heard you thinking filthy thoughts about him.

“Oh? In what way? I thought I was being quiet.” You spoke with an innocent tone, there was no point in keeping a straight face. You could grin like a misbehaved child all you wanted and it wouldn’t make a difference. So you did.

“Really?” He finally stopped his push ups, and was quick to get back on his feet. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of black sweat pants and a lopsided smile. You cast him a casual glance over your shoulder, but it was hard not to gawk when you noticed the bead of sweat that dripped over the ridges of his abs. The way the sun filtered in the room, still rising to greet the day, made the slight sheen glisten over on his taught muscles. Subconsciously you flicked your tongue over your lips, remembering how it felt to be pinned beneath his physical perfection.

“Because I can hear you extremely well. You want to know what I hear?” He asked, dropping his voice to a low whisper as he approached. You forced yourself to look back at the window and drew a heavy breath. He was behind you in a moment, hands on your body, running over the thin fabric of your shirt. He finally gripped your hips and with a quick jerk he pulled them back against him, connecting the two of you at the pelvis. You could feel him, firm and eager pressing against your rear. It made your heart race, especially when you felt his warm breath blasting over the back of your neck. You took another deep breath and cleared your throat, still ever dedicated to your mischief.

“Nothing to hear except the squeaking of a clean window,” for emphasis you rubbed the spot on the window a little harder to produce the aforementioned sound. You could feel the chuckle rumble through his chest just before his lips found your neck. He nibbled on your sensitive flesh, dragging his teeth along the skin causing a shiver to chase down your spine. Betrayed by your own voice, a small and pleasured whimper escapes your lips. He seemed to like that quite a bit as evidence by his hips pressing more firmly against you, and the grip on you tightening. He pulled away just long enough to whisper to you,, brushing his lips over your ear in that teasing, tantalizing way. 

“And your extremely loud thoughts about what I do to you.” His hands finally left your hips to begin undoing your pants. Once they’re undone he separated from you just enough to pull your jeans and underwear down to your thighs, exposing your slick sex. That little itch inside you, so hungry for him only grew more desperate. The heat was spreading through your skin like wildfire, out of control.The paper towel and windex dropped from your hands as you reached for his. He didn’t let you touch him though, you feel a now familiar tug at your hands. He makes you put your hands up against the window, not releasing the telekinetic pressure until you’re open palmed against the glass. 

“Here I am, cleaning up for you and you’re accusing me of what, exactly?” Your voice is shaky now. Your thighs parting just enough to offer yourself to him, just about begging for his touch. His hand slipped under your shirt and rubbed along your lower belly, cruelly close to your exposed womanhood. Finally he ran a single finger along your slit, just the slightest tickle of a touch. The gasp of pure excitement was enough to inspire him to slip that finger between your folds. So wet, his just glides across you, until he focuses on circling your ever so sensitive nub so slowly.

“So you don’t come in here in the mornings to ogle me?” He asked as his other free hand gripped your breast, claiming it as his own. He was firm but always with a certain gentleness. Everything was fun with him. That delightful tease at the crux of you, begins to pick up in speed, but only a little.

“I resent-“ he interrupts you with another soft bite on the sensitive side of your neck. His tongue swirls over your skin, hot and eager for more of his touch. He’s moving just fast enough that you can’t help but rock your hips against his touch. Your mouth hangs open as you pant desperately for air. You can feel his breathing picking up too, the rise and fall of his chest against your back. He drags his teeth back up to your ear, flicking a tongue out over the lobe before he speaks.

“If you want me to fuck you, all you have to do is ask,” he said with a chuckle. His hand left your chest to grip your chin and tilt your face back towards his so he could claim your lips for an affectionate but dominating kiss. You whined eagerly into his mouth as his fingers moved from your sensitive spot to delve deep into your core. He didn’t go slow either, he fucked you with his fingers fast and deep, deliberately rubbing your inner walls. His thumb in the meanwhile took their place, rubbing lazily back and forth across your clit. Your head fell back, resting on his shoulder as you panted out. It wouldn’t take long, it never took long. The pressure building the demand for a release causing your hips to jerk against his body. Your breathing peaked, your moans became desperate and-

“You do have to ask though,” he said sounding all to pleased with himself. He stopped all movement right before you could finish. The cry of frustration was loud and guttural as it ripped from you. You should’ve seen it coming though, it was very much one of his favorite things to do to you, see how close he could get you to finishing before he denied you a release.

“You absolute bastard,” you said it with such conviction and thrusted into his hand to try to force him to resume. He was steadfast though and remained absolutely still despite your pleading protests.

“Oh, do you want me to go back to my training?” He asked innocently, he started moving his fingers slowly inside of you, as if to taunt you with what you’d be missing. He might have been bluffing about training, but you also knew this was a game he was willing to play for hours. He’d done it before, denied you over and over until you were just about in tears, then shatter your world with the most climactic of finales. 

“Fuck me, Kenshi. I need you to fuck me. Please.” He releases your hands from your side when he said it, and immediately pushed you forward, against he window. The hand previously on your chin was suddenly gripping your hair, pressing your face against the glass from the back of your head. You let out a sad sounding cry as he withdrew his fingers from you.

“Since you asked me so nicely,” he said cheekily into your ear. He freed his length from his sweat pants and with a forceful thrust he was inside. He did exactly what he said he would and fucked you, each thrust from his hips driving deep. His fingers returned to your clit, and he worked you like he was playing an instrument. Your hot breath fogged the window you’d so meticulously pretended to clean, your cheek smushed against the glass. A chorus of growing whines and pleasures gasps break from your chest, and you call his name. You know it’s music to his ears.

When you climax it’s forceful, your leg shaking like an over eager puppy. Every inch of your body clenches up, straining your muscles before you finally pass your peak and slump against the glass. He’s not too long after you. His fingers dig into your scalp, his breathing coming in hot blasts against your back. You hear him let out a groan and he calls your name, before he shudders on-top of you, finishing while still within your body. He finally lets go of your hair and he wraps his arms around you, pulling your weight back on to him. You lean back, twisting your head enough to plant an affectionate kiss on his lips. He lets out a contented hm before pushing you back forward and giving you a half hearted smack on your ass.

“Satisfied?”

“For now.”


	3. Shy!Ermac/M!Reader

His body took maintenance. It was certainly plenty functional but there were so many small things that could become large irritations if he didn’t stay on top of it. So everyday he took time to keep the body that housed thousands in comfortable condition. When you’d interrupted him, he’d been about to tackle the most arduous part of his routine- the skin. It dried out so quickly, split and became extremely uncomfortable if he didn’t take time to put moisture back in it every night. It wasn’t a difficult task, but making sure everything that would dry out was well covered in his oils was sometimes a trick.

He would never have asked you to help. In fact it was somewhat mortifying to be caught by you doing this, doing something that seemed so frivolous. It wasn’t infrequently that you caused discord amongst the innumerable voices within him. It seemed that almost every soul had its own idea on how to handle the budding relationship, but they all seemed to agree that losing or disappointing you would be disastrous. It’s why so often he would simply stair at you, while he tried to regain some sort of order amongst the chaos raging inside. It made it next to impossible to approach doing anything with you, the constant fear of messing it up kept him occasionally (frequently) awkward around you.

It was the first time you’d actually seen him in any state of undress, and though it made his souls scream to be seen like this by you, he let you inside. With two glasses and a bottle of wine you entered and set about pouring it. He could see the curiosity in your eyes when you offered him a glass.

“Our skin becomes brittle if we do not take care of it.” He said it in the clear, factual way he always spoke, but admitting shortcomings to you was difficult to say in the least, and he suspected the small squint in his eye as he awaited your reaction gave away his concerns.

“I can help you,” your words simple as they were soothed him in a way no one else’s could. It didn’t seem like much, but it was an epiphany for all of him. You were trying to find small ways to become a part of his world. Small, mundane ways, like glasses of wine in the evening, and helping him with basic maintenance. It sent a weird flutter through him, something that he only experienced with you. All the voices that had been in discord were suddenly back in unity, and they all did want to let you help.

The most pleasant surprise was how awkward it wasn’t, sitting on his bed, glass of wine in hand with you touching him. The feeling of you was pure comfort, your hands running over the skin of his back. He’d made it clear you didn’t need to, but you wouldn’t be stopped from kneading his tense muscles. You were determine to get his knots out, and it ached for a moment before relief settle in. All of the souls were calm, quiet and that was rare.

Your warm hands were a pure treat, and even though you both knew you’d completed the task, neither of you wanted this moment to pass. So when your hands travelled along his sides, and up his chest he moved his arms out of the way. It was a small act of surrender to the pleasure of you,, acknowledging that this was no longer a moment of simply fulfilling a need of his, but now a want. The silence was finally broken with the sound of something deep and meaningful from his chest, a moan. He twisted quickly, embolden by the calm within. His hand on the side of your face, a gentle caress, as his lips found yours. 

It often surprised even him how you motivated him to be tender with you, his kiss was affectionate, sweet even, as though concerned you would turn back and realize that you’d been sitting with a monster the entire time. You didn’t though, you held him in your arms, returning the loving gesture with tongues meeting in the most delicate of dances. You pulled him back on top of you, your hands still moving all the way down his body. His hands were busy now as well, removing your clothing, parting from the kiss only long enough to pull the shirt over your head. His hands couldn’t seem to get enough, touching every inch of your exposed chest, hands still slick from the oil he used on himself earlier. He ran his hands down your ribs, fingers almost tickling you with their soft touch before he grabbed your hips.

He finally left your mouth to trail the kisses down your torso, his tongue sliding out to taste the salt off your skin as he went. His hands hooked into your pants and you had to lift yourself just a bit to let him slide them off of you. He could feel the heart hammering in his chest, more nervous than he’d ever been in any battle, but so rapturous at the thought of continuing. His hand finally grips your eagerness, his hand full of you, he strokes slowly. It’s a firm touch, moving with intent instead of speed.

Watching your head fall back and your lips part to moan only encourages the touch, and soon his lips are back on yours while he works your body. Each hot breath of air you expel, each desperate cry of pleasure only encourages him further. It takes him by complete surprise when you stop him from finishing you off, your words shaky and muscles twitching. You reach down and rub at the hardness beneath the thin fabric of his pants, which is all the encouragement he needs to remove them in a quick, perhaps a bit over eager motion. When he sees you roll over, he knows what you’re offering, and it makes his heart skip a beat. So he uses the oil to prepare himself for you.

He’s not quick in this, in fact he only barely presses against you at first, as if a quiet question- a chance for you to refuse him (something he is still terrified will happen). You don’t though with a groan of pleasure he nudged himself into you, before filling you completely. Each thrust of his hips are like the thrusts of his hand, slow but deliberate. He drives deep into you, as his hands start to move across your back the way yours had his not long ago at all. It’s slow, and it’s more meaningful than anything he’d experienced as he was now. The more you tense though, the more irrational his thrusts become, reacting to your pleasure with clear physical declarations of his own.

Each thrust into you moves quicker than the last. You’re doing your best to match his thrusts with your own, but he keeps changing the speed. Soon you can both feel the pressure building, a desperate and deep need within you to see this to its end. Your cries of pleasure, your hungry panting are almost enough on your own to push him over. He manages to hold off just long enough for your body to spasm and the release you of the mounting pressure. The tightening of you around him, however does push him to his own finale, and he’s still buried deep inside when he floods you with his warm want. He collapses on top of you, and holds you close. For a moment the two of you, panting in unison, feel so in tune with one another it feels as your hearts are beating together. For a wonderful moment there’s nothing but you and him, everything quiet, everything wonderful.

“We would like it if you stayed with us for tonight.” It was the first time he’d felt bold enough to invite you, and it was an amazing offer. You stayed with him, in fact you never really left. His home became yours very quickly after that night.


	4. Noob Saibot/F!Reader

“Was that an invitation?” An innocent sounding question from a man that was anything but. Even though he was careful with you, it was hard on occasion not to be intimidated by someone so positively deadly, but that was part of the original thrill of being with him, you supposed. Despite the initial hesitation you had over him, it quickly became clear that you were safest when he was with you. You were sitting at the table, enjoying a coffee break, when he’d come in a few minutes ago. Unable to resist pushing his buttons, the conversation had quickly become a back and forth swapping of barbs. It would no doubt seem insane to anyone else that you would deliberately provoke Noob Saibot, but you wanted something that he was very good at giving, hence his question.

“An invitation to what?” You asked as you swirled the spoon in your coffee. The lift of your eyebrows, and lofty tone of your voice was the paper thin attempt you gave at cluelessness. You knew exactly what he was asking. He was asking if you wanted to play, if you wanted to get rough, if you wanted him to fuck you. You did, of course, but these few moments of pregame would set the mood for the fun later on. He would never touch you until you verbally confirmed to him you wanted to because the speed at which things would heat up between you was intense to say in the least, and he was careful to never hurt you in a way you didn’t want to be.

You licked the back of your spoon and met his stare, before taking a sip from your mug. He hadn’t moved, he was still leaning against the counter, arms crossed against his chest just watching you. Yet there was a certain tenseness in his muscles that hadn’t been there moments prior. Like he was poising to pounce, it felt like a thrill shooting through your veins the way it made your heart hammer in your chest.

“So you want to get rough then?” It was far from a threat, it was a delicious promise of all the wonderful things he would do to you, provided you said yes. You rested your chin in your hand and looked him over like you were actually debating the foregone conclusion. You were drawing it out, enjoying the way his jaw clenched watching you toy with him before he took control back.

“Is there any other way to get?” You asked, titling your head back and downing the remainder of your coffee. It burned on the way down, but there hadn’t been enough left to really hurt. You turned in your chair so you were finally facing him completely, deliberately parting your legs in a none too feminine manner. It might have escaped detection if you hadn’t been wearing a short dress. His eyes flicked down, between your legs, and he finally moved. He closed the distance between the two of you in mere moments. Only inches from your chair, you had to spread your legs further apart to avoid knocking knees with him. He stood between them, towering above you and forcing you to sit up straight to look up into his face. Your eyes were level with his hips, and it was every so tempting to reach out a hand to brush over his groin. That would be a dangerous game, teasing him physically before you let him actually touch you, perhaps on a day when you hadn’t been jabbing at him moments ago.

“That wasn’t a yes or a no, brat.” His stare was piercing, and it made you squirm for a few reasons. There was a familiar yearning forming inside that only he knew how fulfill. You reached out and nudged his shirt up enough to wrap your arms around his waist and plant a kiss just below his navel. You tilted your head back up, resting your chin on his flesh to look at him with your adoring gaze. He knew how to full your needs, all of them. 

“Yes, I do want to get rough,” as you spoke he finally touched you. His hand stroked your hair, a simple and affectionate gesture, a calm before the storm.

“And what do you say if you want to stop?” He asked you this every time. You always knew the answer, something that you’d committed to memory from the very first time the two of you came together. You suspected this was more of a way to remind you to use it if you needed to, as opposed to a reminder about the specific word.

“Inkblot.” The word had always seemed appropriate to use with him, the man of darkness and shadows.

“Good girl,” he said. He had a warm tone of voice, but the affectionate demeanor melted away almost immediately after. The gentle stroking of your hair fast became a tight grip that he used to guide you to your feet. He didn’t waste anytime getting that dress off of you, using both hands he jerked it over your head, despite your wriggling that should have made it more difficult. Once you agreed, you could squirm, resist, or misbehave, the game was on until you called it off. It was clear he relished the chance to put you back in place, to use his strength or come up with ways to punish you. It was weirdly liberating, you could engage in this however you wanted to. You did behave for him on occasion, but in the same way you like to snark back to him, you couldn’t resist poking the bear and delighted in the response.

The way he manhandled you, yanked your bra and panties off and then grabbed at you always set your body aflame. He took ownership of your form with his hands, roughly gripping at your chest and then your womanhood. It was firm to the point of being just slightly painful, only compounded by the rough rub back and forth across your sex. With one hand still clutching you, the other one looped around your waist so he picked you up and carry you to the room you and he shared.

There was no ceremony in the way he dropped you on the bed, more of a toss to the gentle surface. His shirt came off, and you desperately needed to touch him, feel his dark skin and the ridges of his exceptional musculature under your fingers. And for a brief moment he let you, he let you sit up and feel the perfection of his body. That didn’t last long though. The jerking back on your shoulders from hands you hadn’t seen, pushed you back to the bed. You’d foolishly forgotten about the shadow clone that now had you pinned to the bed. You pushed with all your strength at its wrists with both your hands and shoulders, desperate to get back to touching him. It would not let you up.

“That’s cheating,” you say it like it would matter, even though you knew it didn’t. He made the rules. 

“I don’t care.” He wasn’t even looking at you, his attention was directed at the second drawer down in the dresser by the bed. That was the fun drawer. The drawer with all the toys. Positioning himself to the side he want you to watch what he was doing. He would pick something out, hold it up high enough for you to see, look at it and then back at you, at your naked and exposed gender before putting it back to look at the next implement. Every toy he picked up and rejected made the anticipation grow stronger, the building need made it impossible to suppress an impatient whine. He didn’t seem to react to it, save for the smallest of smirks tugging at the corner of his lips. He considered the plug for a long moment before putting it back as well. The first indication of where he was going to be fucking you tonight.

“Some day soon I’m going to use the entire drawer on you,” he said it smugly, finally selecting a few things that he tossed on the bed with the flick of his wrist: restraints, your egg vibrator, the lube, and the switch. He stood before the bed and watched you struggle with the clone.

“Like you could last long enough for that,” you retorted. He leaned down to get his hand back on your wet and wanting cunt. He slid his fingers down your slit, before running them over your entrance, eliciting the most eager of moans from you.

“Says the eager little slut that begs for her orgasms,” harsh though the words were, he cooed them at you. Like he was telling you he loved you. He barely pushed a single digit into you, just the end of his finger, back and forth over and over again. Your face reddened at his words and actions. After the brief teasing, he and the clone rolled you over. The clone grabbed your wrists and pinned them behind your back before using the soft leather restraints to keep them there. All the while Bi-Han grabbed your hips and jerked them up before sliding a pillow underneath to keep you in a presenting position. He took the egg, and turned it on to a low setting, before grabbing one of your thighs to pull your legs apart. The side of his hand brushes against your womanhood ever so slightly as it does. His thumb pushed apart your folds, so he can slide the egg into place, and then push it deep within. You immediately tensed at the intrusion, welcome as it may have been. The vibration was low enough that it didn’t do much more than make that needy itch more desperate.

Your head tilted to the side in time to see him grab the switch. He held it next to your face and waited for you to lean over and give it a kiss. He dragged the tip across your chin, then down your neck, over your shoulders and down your back. The slight touch was enough to make your thighs twitch. The first strike was quick, a sudden burst of mild pain and so much pleasure. You couldn’t resist the gasp, then the whimpering cries of delight at the next few strokes. It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, or leave any lasting marks, just enough to cause the blood to start rushing and turn your skin pink. 

He aimed for your ass and thighs, pausing occasionally to run a grabbing hand down a cheek and deliver a firm slap there. In all he delivered close two twenty. Your back arched each time, tilting back into the punishment, almost thrusting against nothing. The desire was palpable with in you, and even on you from a glance at your glistening sex. Your breathing was an erratic symphony of pants and whines. Even though he never bothered to change the speed, the vibration, that tease of want was enough to drive you mad. By the time he finally stopped all of your muscles were twitching and jerking awkwardly. He drove you past the point of rational thinking regularly, today was no exception.

You didn’t notice when he collected the lube from the bed, so caught up in the moment you didn’t really realize what was happening until you felt his now slick fingers pressing into your ass. Two fingers prodded in, rubbing back and forth to lubricate you. Your head tossed back in a gasp of pleasure, and you rock your hips against the touch. As soon as you reacted though, he pulled his fingers from you. You don’t have to wait long and soon he’s positioned behind you. It’s a quick, forceful thrust, but only slightly painful.

His fingers dug into your hips and he used the grip to force your body to match his thrusts, each time he thrusted in, was an intense jerk to slam into you. The vibration, his body smashing into your sensitive skin, and the absolutely immeasurable pleasure of him fucking you senseless was too much. You couldn’t last long. Your body tightened,, every muscle clenched around him, pulling the first moan from his lips. Your body bucked against him, wrists tugged helplessly at the restraints as the waves of pleasure crashed through you unchecked. You were shaking for several long moments even after the moment passed, still jittery and overly sensitive from the force of your climax.

It took him considerably more time of vicious thrusting before he spilled deep inside. He panted uncontrollably and he collapsed on your body. And as quickly as the game begun it’s over, he unbound you, he cradled and cared for you. He rubbed your sore muscles and carried you to the couch so he can hold you and watch tv together. He stroked your hair, and kisses your forehead, all the wonderful things that makes the fact he loves you impossible to not know.


	5. Goro/M!Reader

Sweet nothings, tender looks, and loving affection was not his way. He didn’t plan romantic evenings or grand gestures. There was an almost strange formality to his pursuit of you, granted you weren’t overly familiar with Shokan courtship rituals but there was something about your interactions that felt as though he were almost ticking off boxes down the list of things he was supposed to do to earn your favor. The most conventional part of the whole thing for you though, had been the gifts. He gave you weapons (mostly that you didn’t know how to use),, opulent baubles, and battle trophies. You… weren’t sure where to put the jewel encrusted skulls, it seemed like it would be offensive not to show them off. Right now they were sitting on your kitchen table, like the weirdest dinner guests. The gifts at least, had made his intentions with you extremely clear, and you were definitely receptive to his attention.

He’d invited you out for the evening, which admittedly could have made this the first conventional date the two of you had. Well, perhaps conventional wasn’t the right word. There’d been more food prepared than you could ever consume, to the point you wondered if that might have been the point- showing the abundance he could offer you. He toasted you and vowed to personally vanquish your enemies. To be honest, it sort of made you wish you had a few. There was something weirdly exciting about the idea of the giant man taking on the world for you. Naturally, when he asked you to join him in his chambers you couldn’t resist going.

The massive doors to his room thunked shut as he grabbed you to pull you to him. His lips and your lips joined in seconds, tongues swirling, breathing heavy. His hands, plentiful as they were, were everywhere on you. One was on the base of your neck, refusing to let you leave the passionate moment (though you had no interest in doing that). It was the most delicate of any of his touches, though it was hard to describe it that way. All his hands were coarse, and the rubbing of his thumb over the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck was a delightful mix of rough and tender. A strange dichotomy that would come to mark all of your interactions. Though he was far from gentle, there was a certain care he took in being intimate with you, concerned no doubt for the side effects of his impressive physical strength.

The next hand was rubbing the muscles in your shoulder, down to your bicep. He was an expert with his touch, knowing exactly how hard to massage to relieve tension without being painful. Dimly, because you were very much otherwise distracted, you were aware that this was no doubt something he had much experience with, he was a warrior. A man of hard work and unrelenting physical ability, he didn’t take time off, he didn’t rest. There was a slightly jealous curl in your stomach as you wondered if he’d massaged any of his fellow warriors before.

The thought was quickly banished from your mind, though, as he started to lean you back with yet another hand in the small of your back. He paused just long to let you catch your breath, all the while drawing kisses across your jawline, back to your lips. When he kissed you again, it was deep, his tongue taking ownership of your mouth, leaving you trying and failing to keep up. You could feel the hand on your back clenching at the soft fabric of your shirt before it tugged upwards so he could feel your flesh. He touched every inch of it on your back, hand sliding almost lazily around to enjoy the feeling of you.

It was enough to make your head spin when the final hand grabbed a fistful if your ass, and pulled your hips against his. You could feel him through your pants, he was large and already fully eager to fuck you. He brought you to full attention as well, you could feel your pulse start firing off rapidly as for the first time you really realized you were about to be fucked by the massive Shokan prince. Your side of the kiss turned sloppy very quickly, the fog of lust making precision work all the more difficult. You could feel the hot flush spread over your cheeks and chest. Your hands finally made themselves somewhat useful and began tugging at his admittedly scant clothing, desperate to see the giant and his physical perfection. Suddenly his hands were gone for you, and you couldn’t prevent a disappointed groan.

“Patience,” was all Goro. He pushed your hands away, and busied himself on getting the clothes off you first. He was… extremely adept at getting them off quickly, with enough hands and strength to move your body and the clothes around simultaneously he had your fully clothed body naked in the time it had taken you to fail to undo one of his straps. With a grip on your opposite shoulder he walked you backward to his bed, where he pushed you down on top of it. Propped up on your elbows, you were just quick enough to sit up so you could watch him undress. You already knew what most of him looked like, modesty didn’t seem to be a virtue of the Shokan, but finally getting to see all of him almost made your mouth fall open. There was so much of him, in every way. The sheer thrill of it made your hair stand on end and a shiver of excitement run through your body.

He was on top of you in an instant though, hands back to touching you in every way. Every way save for one. That one he left for his lips and tongue, he descended down your torso, placing eager, hot kisses all the way down to your manhood. Your head fell back, you didn’t actually see him do it, but suddenly you were enveloped by the wet warmth of his mouth. His lips wrapped over his teeth to protect your most sensitive of flesh. You looked back just in time to see his head start bobbing. Your thigh was twitching as his tongue pressed against your cock, pushing as he descended across you. A moan so deep that it didn’t feel like it came from you rumbled away, you punctuated it with the sounds of high pitched whines.

Two of his hands were holding your hips in place, preventing the thrusting your body was demanding of you. One of the others was running his fingers gently down where he’d placed his kisses before. The final hand was digging its fingers into your quivering thigh. It was so much sensation in such a short amount of time. It made you feel desperate, for what you couldn’t easily articulate. Maybe just to cum, to let all the sensations explode, in a hot lusty mess. You were determined though, you were going to get fucked by your prince tonight, no matter how hard it was to hold off for him.

And he did make it exceptionally hard, he wasn’t using light teasing strokes with his mouth, he wasn’t just gliding across you. He was sucking, he was rubbing his tongue, and he was moving quick. You must have sounded positively ridiculous to the warrior whimpering and whining trying to finish too soon.

“I need you to fuck me right now,” the words were hoarse when they came out, a small attempt at regaining some amount of dignity, though asking to be fucked probably didn’t grant you much of that anyway.

“As you wish,” he said it with the same gravitas he said everything else. He parted from you again, but left his grip on your hips, which he used to force you to roll over. You didn’t need to be prompted by his touch to slide into position, getting to your hands and knees. You managed to look back just in time to watch him run the oil over his thickness, stroking down the fully excited mass. He placed a hand in the small of your back, another on your hip. You tore your eyes away as he began to guide himself into you.

It was the one moment where he was truly gentle, though you were certain it wouldn’t last. Pressing into you, he moved slowly to let you adapt to the size of him. Your mouth did finally drop open to gasp out in pure pleasure. You relaxed your tense body as much as you could, letting him so deliciously and completely fill you. The first few thrusts were similarly tender, almost testing the waters so to speak. These motions were smooth, as opposed to quick and forceful. It made you feel like you were melting, your body already brought so close to a peak before. Once he was comfortable, however, he didn’t hold much back. He was far from being intentionally harsh with his deep and powerful thrusts, but a man of his nature and size had a rough default by nature it seemed. He had a firm grip on your hips that he used to force you to match his thrusting. Each time he pushed in he reached the complete depth before sliding almost all the way out of you, and he was just so fast at it. If you weren’t little more than a puddle of pre-orgasm jitters, you’d probably have been impressed by his technique.

Surprising to no one, you came and it was an wonderfully sloppy affair. The pleasure that was filling every inch of you became to overrun you, and it had to finally release. Your body tensed and twitched, you actually screamed from the explosion pure want. Your heart raced and your breathing was ragged. And your wrecked his blanket. That hardly seemed to matter, it was easily one of the most glorious moments of your life. When he came, and you could feel the warmth inside from him, it felt like completion. He collapsed on top of you, careful not to put all his impressive weight on your form. 

“You will stay with me then?” He asked. He was never a man of many words, he was a man of action. You were laying in his arms when you pondered the question. It almost felt silly to hear it asked. Of fucking course you were staying.


	6. Kenshi/F!Reader

The simple act of living with Kenshi required so much trust by itself. Any uncharitable or intrusive thoughts, every moment of anxiety and anger, and even all your secrets were liable to be heard at any moment by him. It was stressful at first, wondering when he would bear witness to some horrible thought and realize he should leave. He never did though, and he certainly didn’t comment directly on any of your most private or concerning musings. He’d react only to the emotions they inspired, holding you when you were sad, soothing your rages, and calming your fears. You knew he knew the worst side of you, the parts of you no one but he could “see”. It took time, but eventually it ceased to worry you, and not long after that, you found odd comfort in it. There was nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed about. He saw the worst and didn’t flinch. Trusting him that much with your mind made trusting him with everything else seem so trivial, and so agreeing to things like _this_ seemed like nothing at all.

When Kenshi tied you up, it was a very different experience than what anyone else did. The mere act of being bound by him was thoroughly erotic on its own. Today, however, the experience was even more novel. You were wearing his blindfold, which was not that uncommon, you weren’t sure if he wanted you to experience him the way he experienced you… or if he just liked you not knowing what he was up to. It was most likely a mix of both, he never said it but you knew he liked the control. He probably would never phrase it that way. He’d say he liked to please you and he knew you loved it, or that he liked binding you so he could experience your body uninterrupted. He may even say that he was fond of the bond this sort of thing forged between the two of you, the fore mentioned trust, for example. All of which were true, you were sure. But by the nature of his abilities he was always one step ahead, you couldn’t really surprise him. In a way, you sometimes mused, dating him on its own was a large act of submission, surrendering all of yourself to him.

Today he’d taken it one step further and robbed you of one more sense. He’d asked you to wear your headphones- to let him pick the music- while you played together. When you agreed you hadn’t considered exactly what it would feel like to be unable to see or hear him, a man notorious for teasing and playfully torturing you, and though the fun hadn’t officially begun, the sensations were already _intense_.

The way he bound you, not having access to his sight, was almost comforting given the situation. He used his telekinesis only to move your limbs where he wanted them to be, everything else he did by touch. Feeling your wrists, running his hand along the skin that seemed more sensitive when you couldn’t see or hear him, trying to find the perfect spot to place the binding. He was careful too, wrapping it around a few times to disperse the tension, testing each spot to make sure it wasn’t too tight for you.

It was never just wrists or ankles either, his hands would work from behind you to turn the ropes into a harness. The silk cord he used weaved over your body. While he was careful not to make anything you’d struggle against too tight, the other areas he made sure it dug in ever so slightly into your skin. Never enough to disrupt blood flow, just enough that if you wriggled too much it might sting a little. He took time between knots to run his hands over your naked skin, a gentle but owning touch. Like the affectionate pet one might give their beloved cat. There were sweet, calm songs playing in your ear while he devoted all his attention to you. It felt so tender, and that made you suspicious.

Once he was satisfied with his work, he looped the cord through the bindings of your back, and before you knew it he was pulling you to his feet with his telekinesis, forcing you up to the balls of your feet. He didn’t release you until the rope had you suspended from the ceiling in your precarious position. Each wrist was tied at the base of the opposite elbow, folding your arms behind your back the way you usually had them in front of your chest when you were feeling haughty with him. The cord ran above and below your breasts, and then wrapped around your waist. Maintaining your position was a challenge, so precariously perched on your tip toes. It made you more than a little nervous knowing you had no way of telling what he had planned, that slight flutter of your heartbeat he so often inspired woke in your chest. You knew he wouldn’t let you fall- he would catch you.

You could feel the barest caress of… something against your skin, if it was his hand, his mind, or simply air circulating through the room you had no idea. You’d never felt more hyper aware of your sense of touch, but it still brought you no closer to figuring out what he was up to. The music changed to something that made focusing much more difficult, uptempo rock music. The sudden shift in tone gave you clear indication that the gentleness might be coming to an end.

The next time he came in contact you startled you enough that you almost lost your footing. You were right, he didn’t let you. His hand had grabbed your neck, no where near hard enough to disrupt breathing, but the grip was just enough to keep you in place. He jerked you to him. Your chest hit his chest, and his lips crashed into yours. The sudden shift in aggression made your heart hammer, his kiss wasn’t as playful as it usually was. No little games of control, or subtle domination- this was overt. Your moans were sloppy sounding, over eager and fogged by need for him.

His hand left your neck to take a hold of your breast, he rested the majority of his hand on your rib cage, manipulating it from the underside. It became clear quickly what his other hand had been busy with when you feel an intense but wonderful pain shoot through your nipple. You yelped in surprise and jerked back, but again he didn’t let you trip, this time pressing against your back mentally. The jerk back only intensified the pain, causing the sensitive spot to be tugged by the clamp he still had a hold of. He didn’t waste time when he was certain that you wouldn’t fall, it seemed, and soon the second nipple received the same harsh treatment.

His hand grabbed your thigh to pull apart your legs, his lips left the ones on your face to give the attention you so desperately needed at your core. His mouth, so warm, so wonderful pressed against your sex. He used his free hand to spread apart your folds, so he could slide his tongue around your most sensitive spot. This was perhaps the thing that concerned you the most so far, the thing that immediately caused anxiety to build in the pit of your stomach. He was amazing at this, but he may not let you cum. You were whining when his lips wrapped around the nub, he wasn’t being delicate with it- sucking and licking almost to the point that the sensation was too much to handle.

A finger penetrated you deeply, and you felt a slight tug on the clamps. It pushed you past the point of thinking rationally, the only thought in your head that could find any traction was just the growing concern of being denied. The way it made your heart race, the anxious thrill of not knowing what he was going to do only worked in his favor. The more frustrated you got about the growing need to climax, the more it pushed you even closer. The next finger pushed inside, and together they worked against the walls of you while he ceaseless tormented you with his tongue. You called his name, screamed it really, so afraid he was going to keep you from what he needed.

Getting to actually cum was such a surprise that it made the experience extreme, every inch of your body heightened to the pleasure and slight pain he gave to you. Words of gratitude spilled from your lips between the panting and moaning. You were still twitching from the experience when you felt his hands back on your leg. He kissed your temple and then nipped at your neck as he pulled your leg to his waist, and instinctively you wrapped it around him. He gave you the time to catch your breath before he ground himself against your eager, soaking cunt. You leaned forward hoping to kiss him, but were rejected. A hand buried in your hair and tugged your head to the side so he could bite on your neck.

You hadn’t fully recovered yet when he entered you, but you were so ready for him. You fit him like a glove, like the two of you were built only for each other. He tugged lightly on the clamps again as he began his vicious thrusts. You were going to be sore later and it was magnificent. Maybe because he didn’t give you much time to recover, or maybe because he just knew how to fuck you, you couldn’t last long. It might have even been a little shameful how quickly the man could bring you to peak, but that was a little humiliation you were glad to take.

When you came again, it was a much clumsier affair, everything shaking, your mouth hanging open as you groaned the name Kenshi over and over again. You must have looked like a mess, not that either of you could actually confirm that. And when he came, when the warmth filled you, when you could feel him lose his control for the briefest of moments, you liked to picture he looked a little messy too.


	7. Kabal/F!Reader

With your lips on his neck and your hand rubbing over his groin from behind his blue jeans, it was sort of fucking obvious where this was heading. The date the two of you were on had already been a blast, the afternoon was spent at the mall, which might have been the last place many men (especially the more masculine ones like Kabal) would want to take someone. His favorite thing to do though was spoil you. There was this rush of satisfaction he got from treating you. When your eyes lit up, when you got so excited about whatever it was he bought, and he bought a lot today, it made his heart melt. And when you pulled him into a janitors closet, he knew he was about to get his thank you.

You and he had been intimate already, but this was going to be the first time where he couldn’t turn off the lights before you got going, and this was hardly the time for a blindfold. He knew that you knew what he’d been trying to avoid. It wasn’t that he thought you were shallow, or that you’d freak out and run away. You’d seen his face, so you knew what to expect. The thing he was dreading felt inevitable: that look of pity on your face when you saw his scarred body. He hated the thought of it, hated the idea that you may see him as some sob story made his heart ache just thinking about it.

It was one of the few things that honestly scared him. You never gave him reason to think you would react that way, in fact it was quite the opposite. The way you spoke to and acted around him always made him feel like the burns or respirator didn’t matter. You never flinched from his touch, and never hesitated to touch back, you weren’t afraid of the scars. The thing that always swelled him with pride was that you called him your super hero. It was silly, but that you thought of him that way was so important for him. It also made this that much scarier, what if when you actually got to see all of him he stopped being your hero? He didn’t much like the thought of you feeling like you needed to save him. It was getting harder to worry about that though, what with the eager pawing at his manhood.

“You ready for this?” You asked with your free hand ready to tug up his shirt. It was go time, and even though nothing had ever been so scary as your potential rejection, he knew you were going to have to see sometime. He felt a small surge, like Adrenalin pushing him forward. It was just enough to nut up.

“Always ready for you, babe,” he replied. He nudged your hand away. With one quick motion, he pulled the shirt over his head. The anxiety got the better of him though and he kept his eyes down while he fumbled with his pants to get them off. He was going to rip the bandaid off. You were going to see all of him, so he could deal with your reaction whatever it may be. Admittedly going full buff in the middle of a high end mall was going to be a bold choice, but that was the sort of thing that didn’t scare him.

“You’re-,” you said and paused, his heart almost dropped out of his chest until you finished the thought, “you are so fucking ripped.” When he looked at you your eyes were on his chest, hands reaching like an eager child to touch. To touch his arm, his chest, not really feeling the skin, but the firm muscles behind it. He loved the softness of your hands, the smell of that expensive lotion he bought for you. The reminder of all the ways you let him take care of you. 

“Superman,” you cooed the word at him affectionately. It made his chest puff out, his stance straighten. The shame and fear unknotted itself in his stomach, and that familiar sensation of warmth and glee took over. That lightness of limbs that came from the rush of exhilaration you inspired had him giddy to hold you. So he did, he scooped you up, bridal style, and rested his forehead against yours. He spin you around, only once before putting you back on your feet. He’d have kissed you, but fumbling with the respirator seemed like more work when he knew how to show you how much you meant. He kept your heads connected, cradling the base of your neck like you were ever so precious because you absolutely were. The sounds of people chattering excitedly outside was the reminder that he was going to have to be quick, and keep you quiet

“I love you, but I need your clothes off right now,” he finally pulled away to start tugging off your dress. You slid the shoes off your feet while he worked and gave him no resistance. He yanked each piece off of you and tossed it to the floor and then pushed you back, with a playful shove until your back hit the wall. Your underwear was still dangling from your ankle when he grabbed your leg and wrapped it around his waist. He pressed his thick and full manhood against your wet sex, not yet entering, just sliding against your slit at a tantalizingly slow pace. When he spoke his voice was hushed.

“I’m gonna fuck you really hard, and really quick, alright baby,” he said staring lovingly into your eyes, “but we do need to be quiet. With that he clasped his hand over your mouth. He may not have been able to give you tender kisses to show how much you meant, but there were other ways for him to show physically. To him the act of pleasing you, of fulfilling your needs or even just wants (sexually, fiscally, and emotionally) was how he could prove to you how everything you did for him mattered. How your unwavering and nonjudgemental love and support while he recovered changed his life. How your pride to hold his hand and cuddle with him public made him feel like he hadn’t changed. So maybe no tender kisses, but if a hard fuck in a janitors closet in the mall was what his girl needed, he was going to deliver.

With an earth shattering thrust, he was inside. He was a massive man, in muscle mass and other more fun ways. The way your toes pointed, your back arched and you gasped into his hand, drove him deep into your core. He could hear the immediate whimpers, the hungry whines of pleasure, the need you had that he best could fill. His free hand slide behind your arching back to run his nails down the skin on your back. Each thrust caused a muffled symphony of moans to spill out, each touch, rough and soft had you panting for him. 

“That’s my girl,” he praised. He could feel the pressure already building, the hot, ready tightness of your body enveloping his. The feeling of your chest, heaving against his, the soft flesh of your breast colliding with the rough firmness of his pecks. The hot blasts of air from your nose on his hand. Your arms came from under his to grab his shoulders from the back, your manicured nails (which he paid for of course) digging into the skin. Even the sound of the unknowing passersby chattering excitedly pushed him to pure pleasure. The far from the most elegant, this was one of the few perfect moments.

When you came, he had to tighten his grip on your mouth because you almost screamed from the senseless fucking. Beads of sweat dropped down your body and he briefly wished he could lick it off. The glistening sheen with the beautiful expression of delight on your face, coupled with your clenching muscles finally pushed him over as well, and the two of you came as one. He poured into you, and you collapsed on top of him as soon as he let your mouth go. For a beautiful moment, he just held you in his arms, and rested his cheek on the top of your head. Your breathing even synched up as you both, still trembling, recovered from the awe-inspiring moment. There wasn’t much time before you risked getting interrupted, just enough for you to make his heart sing.

“I love you too.”


	8. Bi Han as Sub Zero/F!Reader

Sleep evaded you when he was away on missions due to that familiar mix of worry and loneliness that lingered. The nature of his work was so secretive that you never even really knew when he’d return. You’d asked him a few times, but had always been met with the same stoic answer: _when the mission is finished_. Though the life you’d picked with him was often difficult, you were prepared to meet the challenges head on. It may have meant that you had sleepless nights, like tonight. You’d spent too long in the shower, letting the hot water turned cold, finding an odd comfort in the familiarity of the chill. When you’d finally left you cold, you couldn’t even be bothered to dress for bed.

You were sitting comfortably in your robe, reading and unaware that he’d returned for several long minutes. It was unsurprising that he was capable of near silence given the grim nature of his work, it occasionally made you wonder how often you thought you were alone but weren’t. When he finally called your name, shattering the quiet, it startled you. He looked the same way he usually did when he returned, he had cuts and bruises, bandages around his knuckles. There was a ritual for when he came home, the two of you would share a moment of tenderness with hugs and loving kisses. Then you’d make him tea and tend to his wounds. It was something that reaffirmed the bond after having been apart so long, to finally alleviate the sadness of missing one another. Tonight was different, however. You weren’t sure if something had gone wrong, or if it had simply been a frustrating mission, but he was clearly in no mood to be coddled. When you rushed to greet him, he kept you at arms length by grabbing your shoulder. It’s a tight grip, but his fondness for you was given away by the way his thumb ran back and forth over your skin.

“Go to bed,” he said in a calm but firm voice. There was a certain edge to his tone, a look in his eye that you knew all to well. It dared you to disobey. You set your hand on his wrist tilting your head to the side to kiss his knuckle. The cold of his hand tickled your lips, and raised goosebumps all over your body.

“No,” it was response that you knew set him aflame. He always adored your disobedience.

“If you stay up with me, you’re going to be sore in the morning,” his tone shifted to something serious but doting. He never engaged until he was certain you wanted him to, and he never pushed you to do anything you didn’t want. However, there wasn’t much he had to offer that you didn’t want from him.

“Promises, promises,” you sighed loftily, and your fingers on his wrist were chilled in an instant. The smallest smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth, the evidence of mirth for your boldness. You moved his hand away, and he let you so that you could close the distance between you. The cold rolled off his form, there was something deliciously foreboding about it. Like an unspoken threat.. Your hand brushed over the cut on his cheek, before your fingers delicately touched his lips. He inhaled, and tilted into your touch, unable to resist the brief moment of comfort of you.

For once you broke the moment, with more audacity than he’d ever expect from you. While you had him distracted with your free hand you grabbed the handful of _him_. The reaction was immediate, he hardened in your hand, but you didn’t get to keep your grip. He jerked your wrist away from him, his fist like ice, leaving you trembling to the point your teeth began to chatter. Even as rough as he suddenly got, he was careful enough not to damage you as he dragged you to the bedroom. You tugged all the way, not really to get away of course- there’d be no fun in that, but there was a certain glee to be had in making him work for it. 

“You’re getting too bold,” he said as he pushed you into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you.

“Have I been too easy on you, _my love?_ ” the words were spoken with a mix of sarcasm and sincerity as he gripped your neck without squeezing. His other hand left your wrist to rip the belt of the robe off your body, the soft fluffy cloth slid off your shoulder and landed on the ground around your feet. He watched your trembling form with a growing, and somewhat concerning smile. He’d made up his mind as to what he was going to do to you. He used his grip on your neck to push you down on your knees. The wood of the floor, smooth though it was, was uncomfortable, but you were beyond noticing such a thing. Despite the cold, the liquid warmth at your core was growing making you almost giddy. You were surprised when he left you kneeling unbound, curiosity and nerves was keeping you from further mischief. Something you suspected he knew would be the case.

The strike of the match and then the smell it produced made your stomach tighten. He’d lit the candle on the dresser, and you knew exactly what he had planned. You could hear the clothes dropping off his form from behind you, and you couldn’t resist sneaking a peak. There was something about seeing him like this, right after a mission, that you found ever so exciting. Perhaps the bruises and cuts that lingered on his skin were reminders of just how dangerous he was. It was likely the same reason you loved his scars so much. Whatever it may actually have been, the sight of him this way- fresh from battle, naked and firm, and approaching you like his prey- had you unable to resist slipping your hand between your thighs.

You were a mess for him, over eager and soaked at your core. Your fingers mimicked the way he touched you: harshly.. You had to bite your lip to keep the impatient whine from leaving you. You expected him to chastise you, yank your wrist away, but he didn’t. He kneeled right behind you, and set the candle down before grabbing your hips with his icy hands. He pulled you up and back before using one of his hands to guide himself into you, and then with a quick tug and a forceful thrust you were in his lap, filled by him.

“My poor little whore, have you been so lonely without me that you can’t control yourself?” He breathes the words into your ear starting the trembling fresh as the cold over took you. You wanted to respond but could only manage a nod as you gasped from the entry. He didn’t thrust, nor did he let you, and you were desperately trying to get him moving. He was as cold to you on the inside as he was out. Chilly enough so that it was impossible to think of anything else, but not enough to dull your sense of feeling- just enough to drive you mad at his stillness. He wrapped his arm around your middle and pushed down to thwart all your attempts the get him to fuck you.

You didn’t see him grab the candle, nor did you see him hold it above you- there was just this sudden intense but wonderful sting that trailed down your breast- a shock of heat in the frigid air. It drew over your skin and stopped cruelly on your nipple before the wax hardened. You tried to buck, tried to get that itch deep inside you scratched, but he would not relent. Your hand was at a feverish pace trying to compensate for his lack of motion, but the next dribble of wax was startling enough that it disrupted your intentions. It felt like liquid electricity moving down your flesh, the sensations he inspired were so at odds it felt like enemies clashing on your body. He made you wait several tantalizing moments before each fresh drip, until you were growing beyond desperate, chanting his name and pleading like a dog.

He took mercy on you, and pushed you forward by your shoulder blade, shifting behind you as he went so that he never had to leave from within. Soon your chest, still stinging from his cruelty, was pressed firmly against the ground. Your hips were tilted back, pushing yourself firmly against him. You felt that sudden burst of dripping heat on your back followed by his thrusts. Waisting no time, you matched his aggressive thrusts with your own, each one slamming into your body so hard there was no way you wouldn’t feel it in the morning. You’d love it then as much as you did now, that glorious aching reminder of what he could do to you. The wax was constant over your back, small droplets shaken from his hand as he worked you.

There was simply too much, you were little more than a whimpering puddle on the floor with your fingers grasping helplessly at the wood.. With one more pour, the longest one yet, you felt the overwhelming pleasure he inspired tip over. The lust, the delight, the hot and cold coursing through your body had you shaking and screaming his name over and over until your peak passed. You knew it was his favorite thing to hear. When he came inside the warmth was enough to disrupt the cold from within, and it was a beautifully comforting sensation. He leaned over on top of you to place a kiss on the nape of your neck.

“I think you’ll need another shower,” he said it in a way that made it clear he would personally see to cleaning you up. No matter what had come before, when the fun was over he took care of you, and made sure you were comfortable and safe. The sweet moment of tenderness and love he’d denied early he delivered now in abundance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had only one smut fic left to go before I opened up requests. However I decided I’d like to treat myself and do a request of my own. I’m going to write a threesome. So what I’ve done is pick out characters that I’d be interested in writing for and assigned them a number (in no particular order). Then I rolled to match them up randomly. I call it Chaos Smut, and I wound up with some fun match ups. I’ve set up a poll so you can vote on which one you’d like to see the most. And you can vote multiple times, if not enough people vote then I’m picking. This will be a f!Reader. Don’t worry to all my mlm readers I will reserve a spot or two for fics for you during the next round of requests. You can vote at the link below.
> 
> https://www.strawpoll.me/17865359


	9. Shinnok/F!Reader

He could see the concern you had on your face, and he even understood it. He was more than confident he could convince you, especially now after all this time. As a man that was comfortable being certain, he had the determined patience to get exactly what he wanted. What he wanted was you. And as mundanely cliched as it sounded, he’d known from the moment he saw you that you were his. Destined by his decision you were going to thrive in the lap of luxury he provided for you. It must have been so conflicting, the temptation of what he could offer but with the baggage of who he was and what he did. Mortals were often needlessly concerned with morality, after all, but he knew they all had some form of price. It was just a matter of what he needed to offer you specifically to entice you to his side.

This was not something he cared to rush, so though he knew months ago what the conclusion to this story was going to be, he’d been ever so patient in bringing it there. The months of flattering and doting, of gifts, of his time and attention. All the courtship rituals that have existed since the dawn of time. It all culminated here, the two of you completely alone, the feelings of affection brewing over glasses of wine and food. What had felt for all this time like some naughty indiscretion, some misbehavior you may someday correct, had been pushed to the precipice and you could either fall or course correct now. It was delightful to watch that realization dawn on your face, that you’d traversed too far down the rabbit hole and now might not be able to find your way back- or perhaps more accurately that you didn’t want to. Ah that delicious mortal guilt over anything pleasurable.

Recognizing the pivotal moment, Shinnok left his seat across the table from you to stand beside you. With a curled finger under your chin he gently tilted your head back to look up at him. His free hand ran his fingers through your hair, a simple comforting gesture. He stared into your eyes for a long moment before he leaned down to place a simple but meaningful kiss on your lips. His hand in your hair moved to cradle the back of your head, just above the nape of your neck. A moment of softness, or sincerity, and a subtle request was made when he brushed his tongue over your lips.

The satisfaction when you surrendered was sublime. When your lips parted, when your hand touched the side of his face, when your head rested into his hand he knew you you were won, at least for now. He claimed you with a deep but oddly chaste kiss. There was so much time, and he wasn’t going to rush a moment. He’d savor each moment of victory with you, however small or grand. When you parted he rested his forehead against yours, the intimacy between the you and he was so much that you even breathed in sync.

“You will want for nothing, you will be guarded, completely safe,” he promised and then placed a quick kiss on your lips. His finger finally left your chin, dragging down the sensitive skin of your neck and collarbone. He rested his hand on the spot where your shoulder and neck connect, so that his thumb could run small circles over your throat. He could feel your pulse quickening not in fear but anticipation, he knew from the way your lips were parted, the uptick in you’re your breathing, from the flush creeping across your face. He watched you hesitate, knowing how close you were to giving in, how badly you wanted to remain there with him.

“And I’ll never ask from you what you do not wish to give,” it was an easy promise to give. He had no interest in having you do the work of his minions. Such work was beneath you, no you were destined to be a well kept woman, he’d indulge your interests whatever they may be, and should you chose to be useful, the rewards would be bountiful.

“I won’t have to…” your voice trailed off, unable to find the right way to articulate the concern.

“You’ll do only what you want,” he confirmed it as he ran his hand down the back of your neck, taking the zipper in hand, but still waiting for your agreement. It came in the form of a nervous looking nod, but more than that the way you leaned forward to let him unzip you and with surprising ease your bra is undone. Your arms just slid out of the dress and straps leaving your chest exposed. You moved to get up from your chair, and he let you, even offering you a hand to help you rise. Your dress fell loosely to the floor as you did, and you were wriggling out of your underwear before it dropped. He watched your hands reach out for for his chest. There was something in the way you did it, not desperately fumbling with his finery, but something dutiful- respectful in how you unfastened his robes and undressed him. The way your hands touched him, ran down his chest, your eyes on his pale flesh with pure want. This moment wasn’t about what you could do for him though, this was about showing what he could do for you. 

His arm lashed out across the table, spilling the glass of wine and sending the plates clattering to the ground without any care, there was always someone to clean the mess. He had you in his arms for a brief moment before he set you on the table, spreading your legs wide. He gripped your thigh and his lips hit your sex. Your cry of pleasure felt divine in his ears as his tongue worked through the folds of your flesh to get the most delicious taste of you. He took his time, at a teasingly slow speed he drew that warmth against you and around your eager nub. As patient as he always was, he waited until you were whining and growing desperate. Your hips pushed down against his face, all but mashing your want against him. Only then did he dig his tongue briefly into your core to be quickly replaced with an experienced finger. He knew where to tough, how to rub against you in a way that made you squeal, especially with his lips around your clit.

His finger was joined by the second, hitting that one perfect spot over and over again until your back was arched, your body writhing with your head tossed to this side. Your face was tilted just so that you could stare a god in the face while he consumed you. The tussled look to you, wild in the eye, chest shaking as your breathing became ragged, it made his heart and something else throb in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. His lips left but only for a moment, and only to deliver his first command of you.

“Cum for me.” And you did, like the well behaved pet he knew you’d become. It was so deliciously sinful, to cum on the face of a deity, especially a fallen one. When your cries subsided when your body relaxed, he finally rose up, hands casually resting on your knees. He couldn’t resist basking in the sight of you, trying to regain yourself, sweat beading down your form, hair mussed from all the times you awkwardly ran your hands through it while he pleased you. He always found it charming how easy it was to expend the energies of mortals.

You were barely starting to soothe your breathing when he entered you. This was not the slow tease from before, nor was it as artful as his fingers inside. This was a motion of need, need for your body around his. He leaned down, resting his hand at the side of your head to support himself in the position above you. When your legs wrapped around him, he drove deep, deep enough to hit the spot that could be so painful. He watched your face twist from the pain and the pleasure at the even tempo of his immensely forceful thrusts, each one hitting you enough to make you yelp out anew. 

His lips were on yours, tongues tangled with the taste of you being passed around. His hand ran along your side, scratching just enough to draw the bumps to your skin. He was keenly aware of his own mastery of this, or drawing the lustful pleasure to a boiling point, and he played your body like it was a game for him. He savored your second climax as much as he had the first. He could have, but did not make you wait for his own peak, he could easily do this for hours. There would be plenty of time for that later. For now spilling himself deep inside of you, as he held you to close to him, held the most beautiful promise of things to come. He knew looking down at your adoring face this small victory had become a much more significant one.


	10. Raiden/F!Reader/Kuai Liang

What had brought the three of you to this point was difficult to say, nor did it matter. The hours of good company had ticked by so innocently marching towards a surprisingly glorious conclusion.None of you had realized where things were headed until there were some lips on your neck, hungrily nibbling and kissing along that delicate skin. His tongue was chilly, not enough to make you tremble- he was always so careful about not letting you get uncomfortable. Kuai Liang, the man known as Sub Zero was an expert of the delicate touch. He was so often a man of violence by nature of what he did, that he absolutely relished the opprotunity to be gentle, especially with you. He had an abundance of soft caresses, gentle kisses, and loving embraces. It was always a pure pleasure getting time with him. You leaned your back against his chest, lounging on the couch with the thunder god on the free seat beside you and the cryomancer. You could feel the rise and fall of Kuai’s chest and you couldn’t resist leaning your head back against his shoulder, still allowing him his delightful attention on your neck- now moving to your shoulder. Your eyes were half shut when a gentle hand snagged your ankle, and slid off your shoe.

Raiden’s touch was so different, his skin felt so hot compared to Kuai’s. There was a soft, slight tickle, like someone blowing bubbles against your skin everywhere he touched- the most tender application of his shock. It made your toes curl as he gently rubbed his hand over your foot, releasing tension you didn’t even know you had. It was so delightful that you could not resist shaking your foot out of your other shoe and placing it on his lap, a not so subtle hint that you wanted both feet to get the same treatment. He took his time with the first foot though, massaging with a firm and expert touch. By the time he moved on, there was not an ounce of stress left. Bliss was the only word that came to your mind, the only word the encapsulated the feeling of such tender affection by two men of their caliber. You were so caught up in it you only just barely noticed your skirt being slowly tugged up by a much colder hand. The soft fabric slid over your thigh, a soft caress that exposed your underwear. So eager you were to part you legs for the touch.

One arm looped around your waist to hold you tight against himself as Sub Zero ran his cool fingers over the cloth of your underwear, a soft caress across your gender. It was a slight but intentional tease designed only to barely titillate. It more than succeeded, and you could feel his grin against your skin as your hips tilted into the slight strokes, pressing against his finger. He nudged the soft fabric, already in the process of being ruined by your eagerness, so he could continue his slow back and forth taunt against you needy skin. His grin grew, and you could feel his chuckle rumble through his chest, a rare sound from the stoic man, you were just about the only person that managed to get any humor from him.

“You’re too eager,” he said in a falsely-chastising tone. Your free hand was busy opening your blouse, it was an opportunity he took to adjust his grip on you. He took one of your breasts in the palm of his hand, his fingers gently pinching around the nipple that hardened immediately for him. Raiden’s hands were moving up your calf. His lips pressed first against your ankle, then trailed tingling kisses all the way up to your knee. You stared down through lidded eyes at the demigod, the look of want on his face was more than enough to draw a moan from you. It was dizzying to think about being between two men of such raw power. You didn’t ruminate on it too long, though. A cold finger invaded your warmth, pushing inside of you to coax more sounds of pleasure from your lips.

Raiden took the moment to push forward, crawling up your form to busy your lips with something besides meaning. His tongue slid into your mouth, so tender that yours and his moved as one in a sweet dance. You could feel that ever so pleasant tingle from him working up your body everywhere his hands touched, and there was so much he wanted to. From your legs to your exposed stomach, to the side of your neck, so very close to the cold nibbles and licks from the cryomancer. It felt positively decadent to be treated to the two sensations.

Your hand touched the side of the thunder god’s face, cradling his cheek in you the palm of your hand, your thumb running over the ridge of his cheek bone. The kiss parted with a happy sounding sigh.. The need was growing, aided no doubt by the finger still coaxing your interest. You tugged at Raiden’s clothes, you’d never seen him any state of undress, he was always so put together, so clothed. He took pity for you and removed his shirt. He was every bit as impressive as you had imagined. You reached to feel him, still whimpering at the cold teasing. That feeling of frustration and unfulfilled need grew deep inside. You knew these were patient men, and no doubt they’d be willing to keep this up for quite some time, so you were going to have to be a little bold. You finally pulled Kuai’s hand away from your sex, and pushed Raiden back away from you. A deep blush hit your cheeks when you realized it was time for a delightful decision about how you were going to be appeasing each man.

“Don’t you dare give me a brain freeze,” you said as you climbed off of Kuai’s lap. You looked back in time to catch a matching blush he had on his own face when he caught your meaning. It was such a small thing, but it still made your heart beat in your chest those small gestures that revealed so much about him. He definitely didn’t have a retort or comment, in fact he all but sighed in relief when you gave his lips something to do besides fail to respond. It was a sweet but passionate moment, as you lovingly entangled your tongue with his. He was already shrugging off his shirt when you started moving the kiss down, starting at his chin and making your way down his chest. You could feel the demigod’s hands run down your back, before they gripped your hips to push your body into position. You fumbled with Sub Zero’s pants for only a moment before his length was liberated. He was definitely more than a mouthful.

You flicked your tongue over the tip of him, before wrapping your lips around the chilly head. His body tensed, and he let out the smallest, most endearing gasp. His hand rested on the top of your head and ran the palm back over your scalp, stroking your hair careful to resist the urge to tug on you. Then there was the most wonderful pressure at your core, not a quick thrust or a tease, just a long, lovingly slow push into you. As you moaned you descended over the cold flesh, ever so careful of your teeth. You were as determined to be gentle with him as he was with you, he deserved every bit of the kind and sweet sensations you did. You ran your hand over his thigh, feeling the muscle still behind the cloth of his pants. With a deep breath you straightened out your neck, stilled your body and finally took him in your throat.

He was completely still, frozen in his spot save for the sudden, dramatic shift in his breathing, and the soft sigh of pure pleasure. His reaction was enough to make the warmth inside you explode and the second you were comfortable, full on either side by them, you began to rock back and forth. Thrusting and bobbing carefully down their manhoods. Raiden’s grip tightened and he began to move with you, pushing you further into Kuai helping you take all of the cryomancer. Each thrust was a little faster than the last, so marginally slow that it was almost impossible to notice the uptick in pace. Every time he reached the depth of you, and hit that spot that ached so deep inside, the groan of pleasure vibrated threw your neck causing Sub Zero to respond in same.

When the pressure began to build, when your body started to shake beyond your control, sending your legs trembling and your hips jerking, and when your moans became so high pitched and desperate that neither you nor Kuai could withstand it any longer you came in all the back arching, toe pointing, panting glory you had to offer. His fingers finally dug into your scalp and with a fast thrust deep in your throat he spilled into you. The thunder god wasn’t long after that either, by that point driving into you fast enough that staying on your feet while in the throws of pleasure was next to impossible. You collapsed on the colder man and curled on his chest before Raiden’s weight dropped on you. For the most wonderful minute you laid in the arms of the two men, basking in the pure bliss, waiting to catch your breath. The awkwardness of what had just happened would no doubt be a stumbling block you faced later, for now though there was only this perfect moment.


	11. The Kollector/F!Reader

His attempts at flattery and persuasion were obvious, they’d always been. That must have been intentional, there was simply no way with the constant gifts and overly generous compliments he gave that he didn’t expect you to know he was up to something. Something. You still had yet to piece together what it was that he was after. Which was why (or so you told yourself) that you’d allowed all the adulation and the presents to continue, you were so very curious about what he wanted. The truth, though you were not ready to admit it was a little muddier than that. You did want to know more, but there was this small narcissistic part of you that craved the attention he lavished. And those sparkling stones on all the jewelry he supplied you with didn’t hurt either. It was a small taste of a decadent life that you had never been privy too, and it turns out you really loved the flavor. So even though you knew it was foolish, you kept entertaining his interest. Hence how you’d ended up in his room once more.

His entire home was full of things, and you weren’t sure there was a better way to describe it. It seemed as though you could honestly find everything there if you only looked hard enough. It was a strange eclectic opulence, everything looked expensive, nothing matched, and yet somehow it looked like it all belonged there. It was like the finest dragon hoard, everything of value in one place where a watchful eye could be kept over it. Even his bed was abundant in excess, there were blankets made from wealthy looking fabrics, and pillows overflowing over top them to the point many were strewn on the floor: an elegant mess. You were still marveling at the sheer quantity of _things_ when you managed to catch a look at yourself in his ornate mirror, and something clicked. Wearing several pieces of the jewelry he’d offered you- necklaces dripping with gemstones and rings glistening from fine metals on every finger, not to mention the hair pins- as well as the ornately embroidered dress you looked like you belonged there. He’d collected you.

“This one is my favorite,” he said as he approached you from behind. Two of his arms, the most human looking ones, slid around your waist to pull you against his body. One of the ones that came angled from his back to lift your chin with a gentle caress, and the other ran a long finger over the necklace he was referring to. No doubt the one worth the most, not that you thought for even a minute he paid for it. The way he touched it, you knew in his mind it had never really been a gift, he was decorating his new favorite trinket. He tilted your chin so they he could press his lips to yours, and slip his tongue into your mouth. You could still taste the wine on him that he’d shared with you earlier. His hands ran across the soft silk of your dress, there was something possessive in his touch, and it made you hesitate. He pulled back from the kiss but did not release your chin to keep your eyes locked on his.

“You seemed concerned, _my treasure_ ,” his voice was a low purr, “have I displeased you?” You tugged your chin away and looked back in the mirror, the words ‘my treasure’ lingering in your mind. You took stock of the all the finery glittering against your skin and of his limbs draped across your form. You looked good like this. Turning in his arms, you ran your hand up his neck to to the back of his head and brought him back to your lips for a far more eager kiss. A set of his fingers buried in your hair, and he leaned you back until only him supporting you could hold you up. When he finally parted from you to let you breathe you spoke in a teasing tone.

“Not yet you haven’t.” Your lips were so close to his, you knew he could feel your breath against them, like your words had caressed them. You might be his shiniest new toy, but if he was going to keep you he was going to have to take care of you. The slightest smirk twitched at his lips and crinkled around his eyes. He knew exactly what you meant. Instead of a verbal response, he kissed you again. His hands were everywhere, touching just about everything, exploring his new territory. It was not unlike the way one might run their hands over a soft new blanket, enjoying the pleasurable sensation before you enjoyed it more properly. Your hands slid back down to his chest to begin undressing him, something he was more than happy to let you do. It was hard not to marvel at the clash of your skin tone against his blue flesh, it demanded to be touched, even as you were working to get his clothes off. You let your knuckles brush against him and marveled at the mix of sensations. He maintained himself well, his skin was so wonderfully smooth despite the dense muscles below. He was a creature of luxury, you knew this, and still it surprised you how good he felt. As soon as his shirt was gone you had to feel it, you had to enjoy the softness. You could feel the chuckle on his chest with your hands enjoying his pecks. He had yet to break the kiss, and your awkward panting through your nose was about the only thing you could hear. 

When he finally pulled away you took a massive breath of air in, like you were breathing for the first time after drowning. You could feel it hit every inch of your being, like drawing in energy. He turned you back around before you could recover, forcing you to face the mirror. He held your chin again to make sure you did not look away. Two of his hands ripped the front of your dress down the middle before letting it slip from your shoulders, your underwear received the same harsh treatment leaving you wearing only the jewelry. He ran a finger over that same necklace in the most affectionate gesture you’d ever seen given to a piece of metal, before his hand moved down to grab a handful of your breast. In the mirror you could see his devilish grin from older your shoulder before he bit down gently down upon it. His eyes still watching you in the mirror, fixated on how each movement on your body caused the strands of luxury hanging from your neck to sway. One hand parted your thighs while another slid gently over your gender, a finger moving back and forth between your folds. He started at your clit, making sure to firmly brush against it before reaching your entrance. His finger dipped in just enough to make you gasp with pleasure before he moved all the way back to your clit. Your eyes began to shut as your breathing picked up.

“Do not close your eyes,” he ordered in a soft but firm tone, “I want you to see what I do to you.” You opened them back to stare into the mirror. To see the redness on your cheeks, the way your lips parted to gasp and moan, the way your chest heaved in his grip, and the way your thighs quivered for his touch. He made you stay like that while his fingers pushed into you, two of them moving deep into your body. Your hand ran through your hair with slight agitation by that throbbing feeling of need you had growing inside, mussing the style you’d worked so hard on causing the jeweled pins to dangle from your locks, threatening to fall. He didn’t move quickly, no he took his time with you. He held you there while he worked you slowly until you were driven mad by his touch. The nails on your thigh dug as your body twitched against him, but only briefly. His hand disappeared, but you heard the familiar sound of the unfastening of a belt and you knew where it was going.

He withdrew his fingers but almost immediately replaced them with his manhood with a slow thrust inside. His hand was back, holding your thigh in place while the now free hand slipped back around your waist to give him the best leverage. Still her kept your chin held toward the mirror, and still you watched. You watched the way your body shook with each gradual thrust, you watched the blue flesh slide in and out of you, and watched the way his eyes glittered with delight at the same image. He kissed along your neck, until he latched on at that sensitive spot at the crook. He bit and sucked hard enough to leave a mark of his handy work on you. The sensation was enough to cause your body to tense with the delight of an imminent release. 

A moan ripped from your throat as you came for him, every inch of your body shaking. He matched your moan with his own, gasping against your skin. His eyes shut and you could see the shiver of pleasure run through him as your body tightened around him, with another thrust he stopped and held himself at the deepest point within you as he poured into you. After a few moments of stillness he finally relaxed and went back to gently kissing all over your neck. He held you in place until he was certain you could stand well enough on your own. You stood transfixed at the image of both of you spent on each other, lazily catching your breath and caressing each other. After a moment you pushed away from him, and turned to face him. You stood on shaky legs, but it did not deter you from pointing a finger in his face.

“You’re replacing that dress.”


	12. Sub Zero/F!Reader

You weren’t sure if this was a stroke of good or bad luck, though perhaps it was a little of both at the same time. You’d been doing remarkably well with your training, so much so that you should’ve been moving much more quickly through the ranks of the Lin Kuei than you actually were. There was only one thing keeping you back: the grandmaster. This wasn’t the case of a star pupil being held back over clan politics, the mere thought of Kuai Liang being petty like that was beyond absurd. No it was not a matter of how petty, but rather how pretty he was. It would’ve been embarrassing how easily distracted he made you, but everyone had assumed you were intimidated instead of enamored. There’d been a few times you’d been winning a sparring match when he made an appearance, and immediately got pinned. And it was so much worse when he was training too, he was perfect and it was impossible not to gawk. Which is why you were oh so conflicted, here you were in a private training session with the object of your deepest desire, and you were sucking so bad as a result. 

“I’m not usually this bad, I promise,” you said. He’d knocked you back on your ass only moments after you’d gotten up from the last time. When he extended his hand to help you up, your heart fluttered. His cool touch was a welcome relief to the heat that came from exerting yourself. He was strong enough that with a quick jerk he had you back on your feet. To your credit you managed not to stare at the way his very large bicep bulged when he did it. Well, that was a lie, you did, you stared, but you did have the dignity to be ashamed of yourself. Yes, that’s what was causing the bright red color on your cheeks. The shame.

“It doesn’t matter how good you usually are if you can’t preform under pressure,” he said. He tugged his shirt far enough that he could lean down and wipe the sweat off his brow. There were his abs. His gloriously glistening abs, chiseled as if by the gods themselves. This was a weird feeling. Disappointing him felt understandably bad, but… maybe if you did bad enough he’d punish you. Hrm. That was a thought to file away for when had some alone time. You could deal with that later, you needed to focusing if only long enough to prove you weren’t useless. So with every ounce of strength you had in you, you tore your eyes from those perfect abs, in time for him to finish wiping his face, and focused on the task at hand.

“Yes, Grandmaster. I’ll do better.” You reset your stance and prepared to go again. You were an adult. A grown ass woman, not some hormonally driven teenager. He was your leader, your boss so to speak, he deserved your respect. You could do this.

“I don’t need you to tell me, I just need you to do it,” he said as he moved back to reset. You could feel that flush on your cheeks flame brighter. There was that mix of humiliation and excitement he had a way of inspiring. The dull but persistent feeling of wet warmth at your core wasn’t going to be dull for long. It was fast becoming difficult to ignore, your body just called for him. And given how physical this activity was, how much touching there was, it was beginning to feel helpless. Your pulse quickened when the two of you began again, but not from the exertion. No, the way your two bodies seemed to move in sync, between the striking and the dodging, it felt more like some elaborate dance. That lasted for all of a minute before he had you on your ass again. He didn’t just let you drop though, no he pushed you to the ground and pinned you, hands on your wrists legs straddling your waist. You went more still than you ever had in your life, save from the ragged rising and falling of your chest. His face was inches from yours, it was the only time you’d ever actually seen Sub Zero look frustrated, and you realized he did know you could do better. It should put you off, knowing how you’ve let him down, but somehow that just added fuel to the already out of control fire. Seeing the stoic man raised to agitation with you, with his cold grip on your wrist and his icy breast blasting your face was making you feel hotter than you ever have.

“You’re getting distracted-“ you didn’t let him finish, you just couldn’t. Alright, you were weak, that’s fine. You may never get an impressive rank from the Lin Kuei but you were getting a kiss from the grandmaster. You lunged forward, using the fact he was admonishing you to get that kiss. Your lips collided and your tongue took advantage, so desperate and sloppy. You caught him off guard enough that he responded before he knew what he was doing, it was ever so brief, but for a moment your mouths worked as one in beautiful harmony. But he caught himself before it went too far, and his head jerked away from yours. Your eyes opened in time to watch him sigh his world weary sigh before fixing you with that piercing stare.

“And this is why you can’t remember how to dodge a tackle while I’m near?” You shifted awkwardly, he hadn’t let go of your wrists yet. You tried your best to meet his gaze, but the disapproval was too much to stand, or more accurately, your response to that disapproval was too much to stand. So you nodded rather lamely, and bit on your lower lip. You couldn’t think of anything to say, even though you desperately wanted to appease him. He shifted his weight and rearranged himself. He used a knee to nudge your legs apart so he could rest one there, and the other on the other side of your leg.

“Take care of it,” he commanded and he took your wrist to move your hand down, until it was right above the top of your pants. The implication did not escape you, even if it did make you more red than you’d ever been in your entire life. You opened your mouth to say _anything_ , maybe a joke or a comment to ease the tension you felt in this situation, but all you could muster was a pathetic sounding little whine. You couldn’t honestly think of a moment in your life when you’d been more excited or wetter for that matter. You glanced briefly back up, just long enough to verify that he was in fact serious. He was. That harsh, disappointed gaze hasn’t left your face yet, you did notice he looked a little red too.

“Yes, Grandmaster,” You may have said it more for your benefit than his as your hand slid beneath your pants and underwear. He never released your wrist though, as if he didn’t trust you not to obey. In that moment you realized you might actually do anything he asked of you though, hence your fingers slipping through the folds in your flesh. When your finger first drew across your sensitive nub, you let out a little gasp, you were every bit as wet as you thought you were. Your fingers moved across your sex with absolute ease, and swirled around your clit with well practiced mastery. You couldn’t resist leaning your head back to stare into his exceptional face through lidded eyes. His breathing had increased as well, and the grip on your other wrist had tightened considerably. It was just enough to cause a slight hurt that made you all the more excited.

Your lips parted as you let out your low, desperate moan. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you knew he was thinking about kissing you. You could feel his chest pressing against yours with every heavy inhale, the cold of his chest bringing your nipples to attention. It was almost impossible not to work your fingers in a frenzy against your eager skin, but this might be the only intimacy you ever got with him. You wouldn’t last long, but you could last just long enough to savor this. You were crying out so sweetly and softly when he finally gave in and kissed you. You were all too eager to return it, it was as messy as you were, your tongue beyond careless in the way it swirled with his much the same way your finger moved around your nub.

He leaned back as your body started to tense up to watch you cum. He released his grip on the wrist working yourself, as you finally gave in to those frantic motions of your fingers. It had only been a few moments and not but a couple of kisses and you were coming for him. Your eyes snapped shut as your body shuddered from the joint mixture of the pleasure and his cold. You kept your eyes on him the entire time as you humiliated yourself with your need for him. The climax wasn’t even done before he moved to roll you over on your stomach. He grabbed your pants and underwear and with one quick move he jerked them down. You were still shaking from the moment when you felt him press against your entrance. He was certainly more impressive than you’d expected. One hand gripped your hip, and jerked you back in sync with his thrust, more than filling you with him.

The other hand tangled in your hair, keeping your face against the mat. He moved forcefully but slow, deliberately driving all the way into you. It ached in the most beautiful way, and each moan, each pleasures cry from you mouth only seemed to encourage him. He didn’t rush it, he definitely could have, you’d have been glad to let him fuck you senseless. He was determined to bring you back to your peak, this time by his own doing. His lips were all down your shoulder and back, a delicious intermixing of harsh bites and soft kisses, he seemed to have picked up on exactly what you preferred. When you came again, the cry from your voice was what brought him to his own finale. He almost collapsed on you, but caught himself amidst the awkward thrusting, his hand right beside your face to support him. There was a few moments of almost silence, only the joint sound of your panting permeating the air. 

After a few long moments he collected himself enough to ask, “do you suppose that might have made the problem worse?”


	13. Noob Saibot/Smoke

He was a gorgeous man for certain, from his shining silver hair, to the perfection of his physical form that he worked so hard to achieve. Every bit the disciplined man as any of the other Lin Kuei, he was in some ways more soft. Not physically of course, there was nothing but lean hard muscle on every inch of him. There were others that may have had considerably more muscle mass, but that chiseled definition was pure beauty. It was why when tying the younger man up, Bi-han had been so deliberate in where each cord of rope was placed. 

It rested deliberately in between each muscle, tight enough to make the skin bulge just slightly. It snaked its way around his biceps, tugged in a harness around and between his pecs. His arms were tied snugly behind his back, restrictive enough to discourage him from trying to wrestle against them. Not that he would have, Smoke was exactly where he wanted to be. Bound, gagged, and blind folded and very much at the whims of the dark wraith known as Noob Saibot. Their history together extended for much longer than he’d had the title. Even as a creature of the NetherRealm, there were needs that could only be satisfied by each other. While there were plenty of other ways they could be fulfilled together, the only ones that currently mattered were physical. 

Bi-han was finishing up the last knots of bondage which was proving to be the most delicate of tasks, even if it didn’t feel like he was being particularly gentle on Smoke. It was something he excelled at, a controlled roughness that was always enough to make his partner squirm without inflicting long term damage. Something that required and exceptional amount of control, and Bi-han had that to spare. No matter how wild or risky the activities seemed, there was never a point when things got out of hand. There was almost as much satisfaction in it as their was in the release of a climax itself. This was why Tomas trusted him enough not only to be bound, but to bound in this way. It was hard to imagine letting anyone else tie up his most sensitive of spots. The blood had rushed to the area long before, and with the cord snugly wrapping deliberately around his manhood, he knew there was going to be some conflicting feelings when it was time to tighten it. That feeling so intense from the swirling sensations, where pain becomes pleasure. 

And then there it was, a single tug and the restrictive confinement became its own sweet torture. It was followed by the sweetest little whimper as both their heart beats quickened together. Bi-han reached a hand out, a gentle caress against the kneeling man’s cheek before his hand dug into the silver hair. A quick jerk back exposed the almost perfectly smooth skin of Tomas’s neck. There were teeth on that soft skin, a bite more than deep enough to leave a mark. His hand gripped at the base of Tomas’ length with a firm grip. It made the bound man writhe, all that physical perfection, the endless training and discipline, and he was completely at the mercy of another. Another small whimper, such a perfectly pathetic little sound, absolute music to Bi-han’s ears. His teeth raked over the spot he’d just bit, delighting in the tense twitching of his willing captive. With a squeeze and a deliberately cruel tug the whimper became a cry. Harsh but delicious torture that caused the beginning of Smoke’s over eagerness to drip.

“Already making a mess, such a filthy boy,” Bi-han whispered the words against warm flesh, and punctuated the sentence with another merciless stroke. As much as he could given the bondage, Tomas’s back arched pushing his body against his lover’s. Shaking gasps managed to push past the gag, his breath coming out in an intensely heated puffs. Bi-han deliberately leaned back to watch Smoke’s reaction to the overwhelming sensation, and he pulled again. This time firm enough to cause the blindfold to darken with tears given the sensation of his hand dragging over the knots, causing the robe to rub so uncomfortably on that over worked sensitive flesh. When he reached the tip, he tugged on the rope left at the end of the last bind. It almost caused the younger man to lose control, but Bi-han paused just long enough to keep him in check. 

In a moment, Bi-han was back on his feet. With far too much casualness he circled Smoke, before putting his foot on the younger man’s shoulder to push him forward into position. Again he was careful enough not to harm him, despite the fact he had him literally underfoot. And then he took his sweet time getting ready, leaving Smoke only able to listen to the sound of him retrieving the lubricant from the drawer. In a moment he was kneeling behind Tomas again and his hands gripped his hips to move him into the right position. He poured the lube and let it drip down the juncture of his captive’s ass, before he worked two fingers into him. The gentle rub, back and forth only just at the entrance was more than enough to inspire those perfect whimpers once more. When he was satisfied Tomas was ready, he reached around to grab the end of the rope still tied to Smoke’s manhood.

With a firm but ever so careful pull on that rope, he pushed himself all the way in to the man now trembling with need beneath him. There was no moment of softness, no waiting for him to be ready, he dove into the his lover relentless. Each thrust he all but slammed into Tomas, each time he filled him he pulled on that rope. It was the most excruciating delight the silver haired beauty had experienced. He couldn’t even rock his hips with the thrusts properly because each time the rope was pulled it almost sent him back over he edge. The low groans of Bi-han behind him, the unrelenting sensations, the feeling of being so filled did prove too great. Like an explosive release of a valve his want expelled from him spilling a surplus of lust all over the floor. The rope held tight while he peaked, milking the want out of him. When he let out a low groan, and just about collapsed on the floor, Bi-han released it. He put a hand on Tomas’s shoulder to let him angle in better to focus on his own need, pushing in at a much more rapid, haphazard pace. When he finally reached his climax, he pulled out and made his own mess on Smoke’s back. He didn’t crumble, instead he untied the gag and blindfold, and ran a soothing hand through the soft silver hair


	14. Kollector/M!Reader

Earthrealmers were proving to be untrustworthy, in his admittedly limited experience with them so far. Especially you. He’d yet to catch you in a lie, though he had no doubt you were telling him many. He’d seen quite a few like you, charming men with words like fine wine- tempting, but too much can spell danger. So he’d turned down every advance you’d made to him, and made an effort to see you as little as possible. For as untrustworthy as humans were, however, he did have to admit they were a tenacious bunch, and that was something that he (as a man of ambition) could respect. You showed up at his door again with a gift and a grin. 

“You know, I couldn’t help shaking this feeling you’ve been avoiding me,” you said holding out the crudely wrapped gift. You wore your charm on your face in the form of a lopsided smile and that cock sure attitude he’d seen a few of the special forces sorta wield. You were certainly pleased with yourself. Nevertheless he took the gift an outstretched hand, but he didn’t open it. No, you’d not gain satisfaction so easily. He turned, leaving the door open so you could follow, and dropped the gift on the table as he went.

“I have heard members of the special forces must have strong instincts. Perhaps you should trust them more,” he said with four hands clasped behind his back and one waving a dismissive gesture. He should’ve taken the gift and the shut the door in your face, letting you in was giving you an opportunity for something. He wasn’t certain entirely what though. Well, he knew you were trying your damnedest to seduce him, that much he was aware of. What he didn’t get was why. Perhaps there was information you were after, that did seem the most likely reason for your being here. It was a fools errand, he’d give you nothing.

“I think if you didn’t want to see me, you wouldn’t have let me in,” you replied and he felt your hand gently grab one of his arms. You used a soft tug to pull him back and coax him into turning to face you. He sighed dramatically and faced you with an unimpressed expression. You were tempting of course, from your confident attitude and pleasant appearance, he had no doubt plenty of others had fallen for the game you played.

“And what would it matter if I wanted to see you, hmm?” He asked before he stalked in close, bringing his face inches from yours so he could hiss at you directly.

“It matters to me,” you said after a moment of silence. You stared into his eyes with your brows knitted, like you were in the middle of realizing something.

“You’ll find that no matter how many gifts you bring me, or how charming you consider yourself, that I’ll supply you with nothing,” he said rather harshly. He picked a piece of lint off your shoulder and then brushed over the fabric, all the while his eyes remained narrowed on yours, daring you to refute it. Demanding you to lie and tell him you were here for something else. You frowned, and he was suddenly aware that you hadn’t let go of his arm yet. Your fingers tightened just slightly on the limb, your thumb so gently running over his skin.

“I’m just here for you,” you said at last and before he could pull away, you pushed forward and claimed his lips. He paused for a moment, remaining still as a stone. He hadn’t expected you to be so bold, and this was beyond anything he’d had experience with in the past. But, he rationalized, he wasn’t going to give you any information anyway, so he might as well enjoy the moment. With that that his body relaxed, and the arm that had previously dusted off your shoulder now clutched it. His lips parted just enough to permit you access. His hesitation born of inexperience turned to a slow and uncertain kiss, and it wasn’t long before that became something far more eager. By the time lips had parted, his breathing had picked up, and his chest heaved to reclaim control over it. He began to pull away, and rubbed at his lips with the back of one of his many hands. His nerves threatening to get the better of him, but you didn’t let him go, and that was more than enough to embolden him so he came back for another kiss.

Once he’d decided, once he came back for the second kiss the time for reluctance had past, and his hands had to touch every inch of you. Despite how hard he’d tried to convince himself, all the mental gymnastics he’d done to rationalize and keep you at bay, he’d wanted this for quite some time. Being near you was a constant temptation, something he so desperately wanted. He wasn’t a man that often didn’t pursue things he wanted, but you were danger. He was usually too careful to fall for something like this, but tonight he would indulge. Tonight he would get what he wanted, and when you proved to be the man he knew you were he could cast you away having claimed his prize.

His hands were not gentle, there was no tenderness in this moment, only need. The sound of fabric ripping was loud enough to overcome the sounds of heavy breathing, slight moans, and the wet noises of a hungry kiss. He was determined to have you naked, to keep some small amount of control in this moment. You weren’t passive though, and your hands, though far fewer than his, were much more experienced. So easily you had the clothes falling from him so that you could really feel that cobalt skin that all but demanded to be touched. He couldn’t resist flexing just slightly when you felt his taught muscles, a small part of him needing your approval of his form.

You pulled away so you could breath and kiss down his neck and his chest. One of your hands slid south to get a feel of him, and he could tell he surprised you. He knew there was differences between human and Nakanada anatomy, he’d even seen a few of the curious, free hanging male human appendages amongst the slave stocks. His own manhood was considerably manhood was considerably different, tucked away and hidden with flesh, daring to just barely peak from the parting of flesh, betraying his excitement. When your hand ran over the bulge in the flesh, he liberated his firmness to stand at full length for you. You trailed you kisses down, but he could see his foreign anatomy had caught your eye. Soon you were moving to your knees so you could see him better. His hand caressed over the pinkish flesh of his cock, the most gentle exploration of a body so different that your own before you placed a delicate kiss on the underside of the shaft. It almost made him weak at the knees.

Two hands ran their fingers through your hair, two others grasp your shoulders so tightly as your tongue slides over the soft skin, and he gasps in the most desperate way. He needs so much more from you, but he doesn’t get it. Instead you get back to your feet and go for another kiss, walking him back until he’s against the wall. Your hand holds him so soft and sweetly as your tongue consumes him in a kiss. You run your hand over his length, stroking him until he is so lost in your touch he can only moan. The kiss ends so you can look at him in the face and ask with that charming grin.

“Bedroom?” He looked at you with lidded eyes, and drew in a slow, shaky breath. He nudged you away and offered you an open hand, one you took and he lead you into his home. He was quick, that energy, that need having not dissipated in the slightest as he tried his best to calmly guide you into his inner sanctum. When he had you there, when the door closed behind you, he wrapped all six arms around your body to pull you close to continue those needy kisses. He tugged you along towards the bed, and you were more than thrilled to be led there. Together you fell onto the exceptionally soft sheets, rolling together in silk and limbs.

You rolled him over and reached for the oils on the bedside table to prepare your manhood for him. In a moment you had him rolled onto his stomach so you could position yourself behind him. His body was tense, his breathing all but stopped in anticipation when he felt you. With an inhale you were inside with a long, slow, gentle thrust.

His low throaty groan was all the coaxing you needed to begin moving within him. He grabbed your hips with his lowest arms, tugging you into more intense thrusts. He rested on two of his arms, and he remaining two could easily reach behind him to caress your skin. The feel of you was beyond exhilarating, it was fulfilling. Soon he was jerking, his body twisting beneath you with that pent up energy that demanded release. You moved quicker, hastening him to his relief until it boiled out with a desperate cry in a mess on his bed. He painted out, body still twitching as he groaned from the pure satisfaction of it. You weren’t far behind him and soon you had your own end deep inside him. You fell atop of him and entangled yourself in his limbs. You would surprise him that night when you drifted off to sleep having tried to gain nothing but the pleasure of his company, even more so in the morning you left without taking anything else.


	15. Frost/F!Reader

It would’ve been a rant for the ages if this wasn’t the third one she was on this week. Her temper seemed to get shorter each passing day. While every other member of the Lin Kuei managed to gain discipline, she alone refused to conform. A rebel till the bitter end, a proudly standing tree that refused to bend for the harshest winds. Though it did concern you for her future, those were the trees that broke when the tornados hit. So stubbornly she was determined to march to the beat of her own drum, even if she risked marching right off a cliff.

“Maybe we should leave,” you finally said what you’d been thinking for quite some time. The brewing resentment she had growing for the grandmaster was the sort of thing that could only end poorly for her, and the urge to protect her (perhaps especially from herself) was strong. You wouldn’t interfere though, she wasn’t your charge, she wasn’t a helpless creature needing to be shepherded by your wisdom. She was a woman of strength and conviction, who refused to be silenced for any reason. It made her so difficult for you to resist her.

“I should not be chased from my home because of inept leadership,” she said with a huff and dropped to sit on the bed with none of the grace she was capable of during a fight.

“Is this your home? Is this our home?” You asked as you sat up from your reclined position and wrapped your arms around her shoulders so you could lean in close enough to kiss her cheek. She let you for only a moment before Frost tilted her head away. You knew she secretly craved it, your soft affection and loving touches, but the gruff pride wouldn’t let her indulge in needing you.

“Home could be anywhere,” you whispered into her ear, “home could be in New York or London. Maybe sitting on an island in the Caribbean. Just the two of us, anywhere you want to be.” Your hand nudged her chin to encourage her to look at you but she shook her head to avoid that. She heaved a sigh and you saw that expression cross her face, that single moment of softness when she felt conflicted.

“I can’t run away from this,” she finally said, the anger having completely left her voice. She sounded so unusually small for a woman with so much fire. This was a side reserved only for you, the little bit of raw emotional core that lay behind cold, icy layers of armor. 

“It’s not running, fuck the Lin Kuei, let’s leave in a blaze of glory and give the grandmaster a big middle finger on the way out. They don’t deserve us anyway.” It was so appealing too, to steal away together. The two of you against everything else, doing what you wanted and fuck anyone that tried to tell you otherwise. Her gaze was soft when she finally turned it to you, you knew you hadn’t convinced her, but at least you’d tempted her. She leaned in and planted a kiss on your lips, that quick rush of chill from the icy woman was always a welcome thrill. She was capable of such tenderness, such loving passion. There was always so much want in her kiss, want for you, but these were the moment where her roughness smoothed. Where that core called for the security of your love, and you had so much to give her. You knew you were the only person in her world that accepted her as she was, that loved her harshness and didn’t try to mold her into something different. You took her as she was, she was more than enough.

When your lips parted, and you felt her cold exhale on your face your heart swelled for her, to take care of her. She wasn’t one to listen to your professions of love and tenderness, they made her uncomfortable, but you could always show her. These moments of touch and physicality said more to her than if you composed poems and songs, this was her language. You trailed your lips down her neck as you slid off the bed. Your hands tugged her shirt, and she was more than helpful in getting that and her bra off. Your lips were warm, your tongue wet as you kissed your way down her cold skin to take her hardened nipple, so light and pink, into your mouth. She lifted her hips up so she could get her pants off, her legs parted, silently asking for your touch.

When your fingers ran across the cotton of her underwear, just over the perfect slit at her juncture she made that sound. It was the most soft and loving noise the tough woman was capable of producing and she made it just for you. You held her nipple so delicately between your teeth as your hand pushed the fabric aside and slip your fingers against the folds of her, rubbing back and forth lightly working way past her flesh, made easy by the wetness that showed you just how excited you made her. You ran two fingers back and forth against her sensitive nub drawing more of those beautiful moans from her lips. Her hands tangled in your hair so she could pull you away to entangle your tongues in a fresh kiss. You didn’t linger long though before you were kissing down her chest again, but you didn’t stop. You moved down her belly as you worked on getting the panties off her. She was more than eager to help you get them off.

Before she let you reach her sex she tugged at your shirt and wouldn’t stop until it came off. You knew how she loved to see you naked, with your lips on her, staring up at her. A little look of devotion while you were bare before her, and you were plenty please to oblige. As quick as you could you disrobed, clothes yanked and tossed all across the room like nothing mattered but giving her what she wanted. When you managed to get to your knees, between her legs, you paused to rest your chin right above her sex, she was so ready you could smell her. You peered up at her with your adoring eyes as she ran her fingers through her hair. Your own we’re back to brushing so lightly against her cool skin.

“I love you,” you said and you meant it. You didn’t need her to respond, you knew she loved you too. So you didn’t wait, your tongue pressed through to her clit to draw slow, sloppy circles. Her chest immediately began shaking from the sudden uptake in her breathing that caused her perfect breasts to quiver in that ever so intoxicating way. Her eyes never left yours, even as you slid two fingers into her. Your other hand found your own gender, and soon your fingers were working both you and her. 

She was like licking a cool treat on a summer day, and those cries of pleasure only made her that much more tempting. You pressed your lips against her skin so you could suck ever so gently while you teased her with your tongue. It caused the heat so deep inside you feel like it was boiling over, and you were soon raking your fingers back and forth over yourself while your hips thrusted just enough. Her eyes were heavily lidded, her lip had been captured by her teeth but it did nothing to mute her. She tilted her pelvis into your face, emboldened by the your touch both of her and you. So you teased no longer, your fingers fucked her, and you mouth worked her until you were greeted by the most glorious sight. Her eyes finally shut, her head tossed back and her chest heaved as she cried out in pure wanton glee, your name and declarations of love on her lips for the first time.

She was a creature of pure glory in the moment and it pulled from you a climax of your own, you didn’t withdraw from her until your thighs twitched you couldn’t control yourself any longer. When you have way, and leaned your head against her thigh, her fingers were back stroking your hair so sweetly. Even if she never could break free from what she thought constrained her, she’d always have your love and moments like these.


	16. Kano/F!Reader

He was the same bastard he always was, he was crude, casually cruel, and over flowing with a masculine swagger that spoke to his taste for danger. In fact right now he was wielding that look, that smirk with a cold-hearted glint in his eye. The way he cocked his head back with his brow raised, eyes all over you mad it clear he had a plan on how to use every inch of your body. Without a doubt, he did. He was bad for you in all the best ways, and you knew you should know better. Especially with the way he sauntered over, making the top of his pants brush so tantalizingly against the ridged muscles near his hip.

You were at his place, and there was only one reason he ever invited you back to his place. So when you came in and sat down on his expensive, but uncared for couch the only question was whether or not he was going to throw a beer your way first. There had been plenty of times that you were barely through the doorway before he was getting you pinned to a wall, and times when his hands were grabbing and demanding before you even got there. Tonight, though, tonight he was patient. It wasn’t the fevered, fast, and aggressive fucking that he usually favored that he was looking for, which mean he probably had more sinister games in mind. 

It was hard for many to imagine using the word grace in anyway when it came to Kano, and yet the way he effortlessly pulled his knife from his holster could hardly be described in any other way. He was only a few feet from you when he did, not close enough for you to touch, but it would be easy for him to be deadly at that range. It quickened your pulse in a way that made it difficult to decide whether to try to move away, or to lean closer. It made you twitch in the most awkward way, your thighs tightening as though that could stop the wet heat pooling between them. 

He made the choice for you, and he was oh so quick. He had your arm in a tight grip, and he yanked you to your feet, turning you so your back was to his chest, as strong and immovable as a brick wall. Then there was a sharp pressure on your neck, the cool steel of his large knife threatening to tear the skin asunder. It felt that way, but you knew he only pushed the blunt end against your neck. He had never told you, you’d managed once to see it in the reflection of his TV. He didn’t want to wreck his favorite toy after all. Still, that reminder pressing into your flesh of how fleeting your own existence was, only surged the heart racing rapidly in your chest. Your hands clutched his wrist, as if you could control what he did. Even your nails sinking into his skin couldn’t dissuade him, in fact he loved it. He could take every bit as well as he could give. His free hand shoved your dress out of the way, so that he could grab your sex with a tight squeeze. With a tug, he had a hold of your underwear and pulled them up, pushing the cloth into the wet excitement making certain you’d not be going home wearing them.

“How should I fuck you,” he pondered against your ear, pressing the blade more firmly against your throat, “put your pretty lips to good use, maybe?” He was pulling on your underwear so tightly it drew a cry from your lips. One of those things you hated and loved, that intense pain on such a sensitive spot, but the raw feeling and the pleasure that accompanied it was almost addictive. He was a master at delivering things you hated in a way that drove your sense wild. It was a mix of relief and disappointment when he let go of the cloth.

“No, love, I think I love that cute little cunt of yours too good to pass it up,” he said and bit down on your earlobe. The knife left your neck to be replaced with a tight grip on your neck, and a squeeze that was just enough to make your already labored breathing a challenge, but not enough to stop it. You felt the sharp tip drag down your collar bone, no longer were you afforded the safety of the blunt edge, and knowing Kano there was no way to predict whether or not you’d actually be cut. That was what made it such a wonderful fucking thrill. You could feel the bumps raise on your skin, and a chill ran through you as the blade cut through the strap of your dress. As soon as the fabric fell the blade cut right through the center of your bra. Your chest exposed the soft skin of your nipple hardened immediately.

With his grip on your neck, hard enough to hurt, but not enough to damage, he shoved you away, all but tossing you back down on the couch. It left you struggling to reclaim your breath from the sudden brutality. You managed to draw a quick breath before his lips were on yours. The coarseness of his facial hair rubbed against your skin as his hand took a handful of the flesh of your thigh to pull your legs apart. His hand was as rough as every other part of him, hands calloused and harsh in the handling of you. Even if you’d struggled he’d have no trouble putting you where he wanted you, but there was no desire to struggle. Not out of fear of the blade he had pressed so cruelly into the side of your breast, but for the way the cold metal inspired your skin to flush with need.

He shoved your dress back up, then with a well practiced talent he ripped the panties right from your body. His tongue was sloppily digging in your mouth, less like he was kissing and more like he was tongue fucking your face. Your hands knew where to go, even with the fog of lust clouding your mind, and you had his pants undone and his already fully excited cock out. You gripped his shoulders, knowing he was not patient. True to form as he ever was, he was nudging at your equally ready entrance. As he slammed into you, the knife slid with a shocking amount of control across your skin. So quick and sharp you barely realized the rending of your skin until you felt the blood begin to drip down the side of your chest. It was hard to picture a sensation more intense than him slamming into you, while giving your skin the torture you both craved and reviled.

Your nails dug in deep, and with a rip across his skin you were certain you’d returned at least a little damage right back. He left your mouth long enough to let out that animalistic moan. His hand was back on your throat, to keep you pinned before he reclaimed your lips. He was driven deeper inside of you by your relentless attack on his back, hitting that deep spot that sent the pain through you in the most delicious way. Your raked your nails down every inch you could reach. When the knife slid between your breasts, your back arched up, knowing his tongue would soon be harassing the fresh wound.

When it did, when his hot mouth teased at the stinging flesh you felt that feeling growing deep inside. That desperation that made your hips buck against him, that had your toes curling and drew cries from your lips. You came with your blood and his saliva dripping down to your belly. You came and shivered and jerked, your legs wrapped tight around his waist. Not long after he came too, pulling out as he did, leaving a trail of his want from your sex to your thigh. 

You were still quivering when he pulled away, and you finally glanced down at what he’d done. Neither cut was deep, even in the frenzy of a fuck he could wield a blade so well that you probably wouldn’t walk away with a scar. You weren’t staying the night, that’s not how this worked, but he was appreciative enough for your efforts to throw you a jacket to cover yourself for the trip home.


	17. Havik/F!Reader

There’d been many emotional conflicts in your life, and most of them over serious matters. This situation, however, had managed to produce the most irreconcilable feelings you’ve had on one topic to date. When you’d made the bet, you’d tossed the conditions out as a joke. A way to reaffirm your certainty on the matter at hand by coming up with the most ridiculous thing you could think of. Of course, and you most definitely realized this now, betting against Havik was a mistake for a couple of very good reasons. First for the fact he was very often a few steps ahead of you. He looked like a brute, from his mangled face, huge muscles, and scant armor. So it was easy to forget that he had the mind of a strategist. In fact his greatest strength was the ability to manipulate others with their pride. He had after all, just done the same to you, and while the stakes were much lower than in the other games he’d played, it was a reminder to be glad you were on his good side.

The second thing, and the thing far more concerning at the moment, was that Havik was the sort of man that was going to hold you to your word. Not because of some sense of honor, he probably wouldn’t have cared much at all if gold were on the line. No, this was for the pure thrill of being right, and of making you humiliate yourself. That’s why this was so conflicting, because you so desperately regretted the situation, were already so embarrassed by what was to come, and yet that little heat deep within you was growing in the most tempting way. Especially with the way he’d been silently watching you fidget and blush under his unrelenting gaze. He may not have much of his face, but you knew that look of smug pleasure regardless. You knew if you didn’t broach the topic soon, he would push the issue. You tried to ignore how much you enjoyed the thought of that.

“Do you want the blowjob or do you want to sit there and keep looking smug,” you said letting some agitation you felt slip. Frustrated, confused by your feelings, and growing in excitement there was a bubble of energy that was demanding to be spent. It had you pacing, arms crossed in a huff and refusing to look at Havik as the heat on your face only grew hotter.

“That’s not really what you agreed to, though, is it?” He didn’t sound remotely put off by your frustration, quite the opposite he sounded delighted. He was right. You hadn’t promised a blow job. In a moment of arrogance you’d mocked him implying like every other man you met he was so cock sure that he might as well build a shrine to his own dick, and that if he was right and you were wrong you’d worship it. One of the many times you let your wit run ahead of your sense.

“You’re the only person I know who looks a gift blow job in the mouth,” you huffed. You’d been so caught up in the moment you hadn’t noticed he’d left his seat until he stopped your pacing by grabbing your arm and tugging you close. There was just enough force in his grip to make you move, but not enough to harm you. He had the most remarkable control for a man of his strength. His other hand snatched your chin roughly to force your gaze back to his, and your breath caught in your throat a little. He was intimidating, his appearance, his size, and the things you knew he was capable of. Your lips parted just enough to draw in a shaky breath, and you could feel the want all but crawling through your body now.

“In spite of your insolence, I know you’re an honest woman, at least to me. Take off your clothes like a good girl.” There was the slightest tint of tenderness when he spoke, something no one else might have noticed. You knew him well though. He didn’t express fondness, at least not in the way most people did. Still you knew how he favored you, his hands always found a way to be on you, and he spared quiet comments to share only with you. Moments like these, with your face red in shame, very much at his will was when he had the most softness for you.

He released you, if only to let you obey. More ill thought words dared to spill from your lips, and yet the pull to please him was strong. It cost you every ounce of pride you had, but you were going keep your word. So your clothes came off, and not in the sensual seductive way they usually did when about to be intimate with someone. No this felt like a mad dash somewhere between wanting to get this done and eagerness for it to begin. He set a hand on your shoulder, pushing down on your frame until he had you dropping to your knees. 

The proximity between you seemed closer now than it had, with your face inches from his pelvis and the bulge that you’d already inspired. The ridges of his abs all but called for your touch, or a flick of your tongue. You placed a single kiss directly below his navel before your fingers fumbled with the claps of his belt. The affectionate way he pet the back of your hair was one of the most oddly fulfilling sensations of your life. A little display of his pleasure with you. And even though it was in its own way derogatory, it made you want to earn more of that sort of attention. You were already shamelessly wet, and the heat of your core against the cool air of the room had you breathing even harder.

When you freed him from the restraint of his pants, it became apparent how woefully ill prepared you were for him. He was pleasant enough in length, but with a thickness that you’d never encountered before. On its own it was as intimidating as he was, un-groomed and barbaric in size and shape. His hand patted your cheek condescendingly.

“Don you think you can handle it?” He asked his voice a little raspy from his own excitement. He clearly adored that look of surprise on your face. You took it with one hand, and rubbed your thumb across the bottom of the shaft.

“No,” you said, “but I’m going to try anyway.” His breathing pitched up and you knew he loved your response. There’d always been something in the dynamic of how you interacted that told you he enjoyed the games of power. Acknowledging even in this way that you could never really handle him was something you had only now been willing to admit to yourself. That was perhaps why he relished the chance to see you embarrassed when you’d worked so hard to seem in control of everything. Perhaps there was no longer a point in fighting it. So you deliberately looked up into his face as you leaned in to place a single kiss on the thick tip of his cock, and then flicked your tongue lightly across it. You swallowed your pride, what little of it was left to give him what he was owed.

“I love the way it tastes,” you said and licked your lips, “it’s so perfect.” You lapped your tongue back against the tip, deliberately breathing hot air across the dampened flesh. With a finger from your free hand you drew slow circles down the side of his manhood. You could see the tremble across his body in reaction to your touch, and what lovely feelings that inspired in you. You could feel the satisfaction of pleasing him in every inch of your body, it almost filled you.

“I’m so lucky I get to play with it, thank you,” it felt silly to say it, and you had to look away. So you focused back on his impressive, if somewhat frightening member. You planted a sloppy kiss that turned to licks and light sucking along with he side of his shaft. It made your heart skip a beat figuring out how you were going to work with it. You weren’t sure you trusted your skills enough to have something that large in your throat.

“Lovely words, but I’m not certain you believe them,” he said firmly, his petting turned to a tight grip on your hair he used to force you once more to look at him. Your eyes roamed up his still half clothed, sweating form. They lingered briefly on the impressive forms of his well toned body before you finally could stare into his intensely hungry gaze.

“Touch yourself, show me how much you want it,” he commanded and you were honestly glad to obey. That delicious wet warmth that had settled at your sex was becoming needy, and in danger of becoming a desperate itch. So your finger left his skin to explore your own, the hand slipped down your belly so you could give your sensitive nub the attention it so craved. You were so ready for the attention that your fingers slid in the wetness. It was the messiest your own excitement had ever made you.

As soon as your fingers found it, your lips wrapped around the head of his manhood, tongue still running across the top. Even that was a mouthful. Your hand on him started to gently slide across him as you let out a needful groan into his flesh then pulled away.

“I want-“ you started, kissing his length between each few words, “you to fuck me with this. I don’t care if it fits. I need it.” With that you pushed your lips as far down him as you could without choking yourself or having to readjust to get him into your throat. His hand on your hair tightened, his breathing growing labored.

“Do you? I don’t think you deserve it.” His words were almost shouted from the growing want you created. He didn’t let you away to respond. No, instead he pushed you head down making you bob across him. He didn’t shove you too hard or too far, and that exposed a hidden truth. He was being very careful not to shove himself too far into your mouth. He didn’t trust your ability to handle him either, and while you had been considering making the effort, you knew he wouldn’t let you under this circumstance. He was as concerned with you enjoying yourself as he was his own pleasure. You felt shaky, your fingers working a frenzy against your nub, but you knew what he wanted. He wanted you to beg, so you let out a high pitched moan, and he released your head so you could speak.

“Please?” Your voice was high pitched and desperate.

“I need it. I need you to fuck me. I need it inside me. Please. Please?” He grinned at your words, eyes half lidded and loving how pathetic your whimpering cries sounded. He grabbed your arm again, and shoved you back hard enough you knew you’d feel it in the morning. You didn’t care though, as soon as you were on your back you spread your legs as wide as they’d go for him.

He grabbed a leg in each hand, using them to leverage your body back and exposing your soaked sex. Even as ready and eager as you were, it didn’t happen easily. He worked against muscles inside you that you never knew existed. He didn’t hesitate, though, he didn’t wait patiently for you to adjust to the sizable intrusion. No, he pressed in and didn’t relent until he filled you completely. Another thing you’d no doubt be feeling in the morning, but for now that soreness was pure ecstasy. Your nails dug into the floor, and your mouth hung agape so you could whimper out your whines as he made himself fit. The roughness and the control you’d lost to him made the struggle to accommodate him the most exciting thing you could remember doing. You gripped your own thighs, below his own hand, allowing him to release them so he could drop more of his weight on you and get as deep as he could. 

Then he slammed into you so hard you couldn’t stop the screaming pleasure erupting from your lips. That alone was enough to drive him on, to keep him fucking you like no one had ever dared to before. He was quick and he was relentless. You’d been teetering on the edge of pleasure, trying hard to keep from surrendering to it too soon. But there was only so much you could take before he had you cumming like the sloppy mess he turned you into. Everything in your body shook, the world all but spinned around you, head dizzy but delighted none the less. It was all he needed too, to see you pushed over that edge, and soon an absolute flood of his need spilled inside of you and leaked to the floor. What a sight you must have looked, shaking, fucked to the ground and made a mess of. He seemed to enjoy it though, because he pulled away specifically to enjoy that scene.


End file.
